


Arresto Momentum

by Ribbitsplace



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Angst, Drama, F/F, F/M, Fluff, I have no idea what I'm doing, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Quidditch, Rated E for later chapters, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2019-08-29 11:38:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 76,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16743262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ribbitsplace/pseuds/Ribbitsplace
Summary: Keith has been labelled as the underdog angry kid from the day he sets foot in Hogwarts, so that's the role he plays. Never really knowing how to fit in he keeps mostly to himself. His life is turned around though when a new guy gets transferred from overseas.





	1. Vigilantes Eum

**Author's Note:**

> Uhm... yeah... I wrote a fanfiction :D  
> I made some fanart for this AU and got far too invested in it, it had to happen.  
> I've never written an English fanfiction before, but I hope you enjoy the story nevertheless!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accompanying art:  
> https://twitter.com/ribbitsplace/status/1066829779339489280?s=21

__

_  
_

_It_ _matters_ _not_ _what_ _someone_ _is_ _born_ , _but_ _what_ _they_ _grow_ _to_ _be_.

  
The words engraved into the shiny gold placate under the painting lazily reflected the dim light of the candles from the Great Hall. The man forever eternalized within the heavy oak frame seemed to be asleep, his crescent-shaped glasses low on the crooked nose.

  
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had been a great wizard. Since he had been murdered in the Second Wizarding War twenty years prior though, his painting had spent most days watching the students of Hogwarts’ School of Witchcraft and Wizardry swarming around the castles thick stone walls, occasionally providing aid and confusing pieces of wisdom to those who did or didn't ask.

  
The hunched figure watching the old wizard sighed inaudibly. It was risky. He hadn’t anticipated the old man actually being in his painting that late. He had a choice to make. Trying and getting caught would mean missing the one chance a week he had, but he also wasn't going to give up and let it slip away that easily. Bracing his hold on the cold stone walls he stepped out of the corner he he had spent the last thirty minutes crouching in and almost tripped over his own feet when they gave out. The stone wall unfortunately didn’t absorb the smacking sound his hands made when they hit the wall in a desperate attempt to regain balance.

‘Mister Kogane, it is way past curfew if I'm not mistaken?’

He sighed again, this time very audibly. Curse his stupid knees and their need for blood flow.

‘I know, Sir.’ He replied, faced away from the wizard eyeing him from his position three meters above on the wall. He didn’t want to get caught rolling his eyes over his own stupidity.

‘Although contemplating over the possible success of this evening's undertaking in a cold corner sounds like a lovely way to spend the evening, may I direct you towards the Gryffindor tower?’

He could feel the icy-blue eyes in the back of his head, and wasn't surprised to see the old man smirk faintly with amusement when he slowly turned on the spot.

‘Sir...’ He didn't move. His jaw was clenched tightly while he tried to look for the right words to get him out of this situation. He couldn't miss this evening. It was all that had been keeping him going this week, and he needed at least a tiny supply of adrenaline to get through the weekend. Albus Dumbledore watched him curiously. It always felt like the old wizard could predict whatever shenanigans Keith had planned.

Hogwarts was said to be a second home for the students who went there from their eleventh summer onwards, but for Keith it had never been that. Partly that might have been because he hadn't felt that sense of security anywhere since he had lost his father. The main reason though was the hostility most people faced him with.

Despite the war having ended twenty years before, the occasional mudblood still followed him between classes. The occasional schoolbook being pushed from his desk in passing. The occasional black eye he tried to cover with cheap concealer in the morning. Those, to be completely fair, might be somewhat caused by his tendency not to mince his words when provoked. Be it puberty, the unprocessed trauma of losing his whole family or his general lack of concern for other people's opinions, he found himself more often than not in situations that made his whole living conditions within this ancient heap of sandstone and marble semi-ideal.

 

_It_ _matters_ _not_ _what_ _someone_ _is_ _born_ , _but_ _what_ _they_ _grow_ _to_ _be_.

 

The flickering reflections on the plate seemed to mock his suffering. He felt like flipping the inscription off, but didn’t want to risk his chances of convincing the former headmaster how important his slipping out to the Quidditch fields in the dark of night way after curfew was for the sake of his sanity.

‘Sir…’ he tried again. ‘ I…I know it’s highly unusual, but I swear this is really important. I promise I’ll be back in the dorm by midnight!’

Dumbledore watched him with tired eyes and a knowing look on his face.

‘The consequences of our actions, Mr. Kogane, are always so complicated, so diverse, that predicting the future is a very difficult business.’, he said, the tiniest of smiles tugging at the corner of his mouth. And with that he leaned his head against the brocade background of the painting and went back to sleep.

Keith stood in the middle of the hall, dumbstruck. Did Dumbledore just almost literally turn a blind eye to him breaking the school rules? Hesitant at first, he started hurrying down the stairs. Confused and relieved at once, he didn’t catch Dumbledore lifting one eyelid to fondly watch another dark haired boy bending rules and chasing after a dream he had yet to figure out.

 

…………………………..

 

  
_Takashi_ _Shirogane_.

The first time he’d seen him fly had been about a year ago. It had been the first tournament of the year between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and Keith had been thirsty for Quidditch. He had spent the whole summer being forced to care for orphaned Knarls and had longed for something a little more exciting than being followed by a herd of the hedgehog-like creatures from morning til nightfall like a mother-goose.  
  
He got his wish the second the new Slytherin captain mounted his broom. The broom itself was a piece of art, the newest model of the Paladin series called Black Lion. Made out of Ziricote with silver plated details its agility and handling were unmatched by any other brand. What had ultimately fascinated Keith though was the skill the rider had maneuvered it with. He had only been that baffled by a Quidditch player once in his life before.

Watching Shirogane fly gave him flashbacks of his father sitting beside him on their old carpet in the living room, cheering on the Bulgarian team which had made it to the Quidditch World Cup Finals yet another time. Keiths mouth had fallen open the second he had spotted the dark figure looming over the field, darting back and forth so fast the camera man hadn’t even been able to capture him completely. When he had caught the Snitch Keith had jumped up with glee, his little fists thrown high up in the air.  
From that day on his poor Muggle Dad had spent their afternoons trying to teach Keith Quidditch with his knowledge of rugby, baseball and the huge volume of Quidditch through the Ages.

 

Takashi Shirogane was too perfect. He was like a shiny toy the whole of Hogwarts got to play with. Transferred from Ilvermorny to Hogwarts due to mysterious (and wildly speculated) reasons he had made Slytherin head-boy and Quidditch captain instantly. Because some people could have it all Keith had thought bitterly.  
Besides Shirogane’s grades being straight E's, his unfaltering smile and polite friendliness had earned him the nickname Golden Boy throughout the school.

If spotted through unknowing eyes he could have almost been mistaken for a teacher. Grey hair, taller than average and eyes that betrayed his young face. The most prominent thing though was the huge scar that stretched from under his eyes over the bridge of his nose. Keith had been as curious as anyone about the him, but for very different reasons.  
While the other students had swarmed Shirogane with goggly eyes and sappy compliments about his looks and Quidditch scores, Keith wanted to know about the scar. About the hair. About the reason why he looked years beyond his age as soon as he thought no one watched him. He knew it sounded like he was a fangirl from a sappy Young Adult Novel. He hadn’t cared though, still didn’t. What he had cared about was seeing him fly again.

Keith was as impressed by Shirogane as he was unnerved. He felt a lot of different things when watching Golden Boy. Envy wasn’t quite it, neither was it admiration. Inspiration might describe it best. He was utterly fascinated by the sheer skill the Slytherin handled everything with, from Quidditch to his studies and social skills. He was everything Keith would have secretly liked to be. There had to be a catch somewhere, every person had a catch, but again, he didn’t really care as much as long as he could watch him fly.

He had gone to every Quidditch mach. He had even secretly watched the Slytherin team train, which had earned him a good fistfight with his fellow dorm-mate. The biggest disappointment though had been discovering that Shirogane only attended two of the four training sessions a week. At first Keith had mocked him in the back of his mind.

Golden Boy needed only two training sessions a week because of course he was just THAT good.

Keith had almost felt guilty when he’d spotted a little silver head of hair hurrying down the castle grounds at nightfall, Black Lion in one hand and a chest in the other. Shirogane was training alone. At night. And boy, did he train. He was like a wrecking ball, smashing the little black Bludgers mercilessly into targets while evading them in neatly executed maneuvers. Why he didn’t train with his teammates Keith didn’t know, but it meant he could observe him more intently without the distraction of the others buzzing around him.

IF he could get past Albus Dumbledore’s painting, that was.

He had no way of getting around it if he wanted to sneak out of the castle. Usually the former headmaster spent the mornings and afternoons there, greeting students on their way to breakfast and dinner, telling cryptic stories. Sometimes he was there at night too, but never before when Keith had tried to sneak out.

The first time stealing himself out at night to watch Shirogane train alone had blown him away. It had been like nothing he’d seen before and had left Keith agitated, keeping him awake that night until the morning hours. From that moment on those training sessions had been a personal highlight he looked forward to during patronizing lectures and provocative comments. He found his mood lighten on the mornings he knew he could watch Shirogane train, and had even started to exchange a few words with classmates from time to time. Life had started to look a little brighter.

……………………..

  
The wood shattered with an ear-deafening crash, catapulting splinters all over a three meter radius around the pole where the target had been mounted mere seconds before. The small black ball wasn’t bothered at all by the obstacle it had just destroyed. It took a sharp turn to charge again at the silver haired figure dancing in the air above the bleachers. Keith kept his eyes focused on the person in the green and silver Quidditch dress with the number 1 printed on the back. His movements were equally fluid and controlled while he dodged and drove the Bludgers pin-pointedly at the different wooden plates with his bat.

Keith’s hand clenched a long forgotten notebook with illegible scribbles of flight maneuvers and moves he’d wanted to imitate at some point in the future, but Slytherin’s Captain had captured his attention completely at this point. He hadn’t been paying attention to the page for at least twenty minutes. At least the pencil was in use, if only for the purpose of being gnawed at absentmindedly. His eyes darted back and forth, trying to follow the movements.

Another target shattered, the noise leaving Keith fired up to see the next match Slytherin would play. He was among the small crowd of students who watched not only their own house’s tournaments, but cheered on other teams as well. Another thing he regularly was being bullied about, albeit him sticking to back rows and neutral cloaks.

Bitter memories distracted him for a moment and he almost missed the boy landing his broom and wrestling the two Bludgers into the box. Hastily he stuffed his things into the black messenger bag by his side and sneaked back down the stairs to the exit gate.  
The moment he stuck his head out behind the last post holding up the construction a small object swooped by his nose so close he could feel the air ruffle his bangs. He ducked back behind the post just in time to hide from the slightly cursing shape rushing after it a meter above ground. He had to suppress the urge to snort. He had never heard Golden Boy utter a swearword before, and it made him instantly seem more approachable.

Or it would have IF Keith were in Slytherin.

Which he wasn’t.

The ongoing house-rivalries had never really concerned him before, but the fact that he couldn’t casually strike up a conversation with the Slytherin frustrated him.

IF Keith were one to strike up casual conversations.

Which he wasn’t.

  
……………………………

  
Damn Albus Dumbledore. He couldn’t shake the thought that there would be some kind of aftermath of him breaking the curfew. With every passing minute the night air started to get colder than his cloak would protect him from, but he didn’t dare walk out of the Quidditch arena with Shirogane still on the lookout for the lost Bludger. Being caught sneaking out after curfew was one thing. Being caught after lightly stalking Golden Boy up until midnight was another.

The stars were barely visible and a light fog hung over the damp grass. His toes started protesting against the lack of socks with a painful sting. He had been out of clean pairs this morning since the house elves refused to do his laundry after the pineapple incident.

A noise disrupted his train of thought. The wooden chest still stood there at the corner of the Quidditch field, rattling lightly from the force of the lonely Bludger chained next to the empty space its brother was supposed to sit in. The big red Quaffle motionless next to it, and then the compartment of the Snitch. Lovingly decorated with golden swirls and runes Keith couldn’t help but stare. It might be the only opportunity to get that close to actual Quidditch balls ever again. He gulped down the anxiety that was starting to climb up his spine.

Before he could form another coherent thought he found himself walking over to the chest and opening the little doors containing the small golden ball. His fingers were shaking from the cold and anticipation when he touched the smooth surface. It felt like a little bird in his hand, buzzing intently to get away and let itself be chased. His heart was pounding up to his ears and he froze when a pillar close to him creaked.

What was he doing? He looked at the little ball in his hands and breathed out slowly. It wasn’t worth it. He would savor this moment and remember it when he needed to, but he didn’t want to imagine the consequences of stealing something so valuable.  
As if the Snitch had heard him it unsheathed its little wings and started to flutter intensely. He shut his fingers around it before it could escape. Panic started to rise in Keith’s chest as he frantically tried to shove the ball back into its compartment, to no avail.

A distant sound announced the return of the lost Bludger, and all Keith could think of was closing the little doors as quickly as possible and hiding behind the nearest pillar again. His heart was beating violently against his fingers where he was clenching the Snitch unto his chest. A second later the Black Lion passed him, its rider still throwing inappropriate adjectives at the small ball tucked under his arm. Shirogane’s back was turned towards him while trying to fasten the second Bludger, and Keith bolted without a second thought, praying to all the gods he didn’t believe in that he wouldn’t be noticed.  
He only stopped running after the doors of the castle came into sight. His lungs were burning from the cold air and his hair was plastered to his neck and forehead. From his tightly squeezed fist two frail golden wings still fluttered in protest of the rough handling. He put the Snitch unceremoniously into the inner pocket of his cloak and slipped through the giant gates.

Albus Dumbledore was still sleeping in his frame. Keith didn’t trust the silence a single bit, but couldn’t have cared less in that moment. His heart was still trying to break through his ribcage, his thoughts racing around in a circle. He needed to give the Snitch back. The next Quidditch training would be in two days time with the whole Ravenclaw team, and he needed a strategy to get it back. He was almost out of the hall when a tired voice disrupted his minor panic attack.

‘What a curious turn the future can take because of the flutter of a wing, don’t you find, Mr. Kogane?’

A quick-witted answer already at the tip of his tongue Keith hesitated.

How had he known?

A small vibration against his heart pulled him back into his fear of getting caught and urged him to disappear into the next corridor without turning around for a response.

 

  
It was a minute past midnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me at  
> twitter.com/ribbitsplace  
> Instagram.com/ribbitsplace  
> Ribbitsplace.tumblr.com


	2. Proxime accessit

# Chapter 2

 

‘Come on!’  
  
‘Forget it, I said no!’  
  
‘My life depends on this, man!’  
  
‘And how is that my problem again?’  
  
The smaller boy crouching next to the windowsill over some curious copper construction didn’t look at him while adjusting random screws and gears. His dark blonde hair seemed almost pink in the dim light of dawn and painted his features a lot softer than Keith knew them to be. The big round glasses had been pushed on top of his head.He sighed in defeat.  
  
‘You win. I’ll give you the ring.’  
  
The tinkering stopped and honey colored eyes raked him up and down as if to test his sincerity.  
  
‘Damn, you must be really desperate.’, he said with raised brows.  
  
Keith tried not to make his words sound as unnerved as he was. He still hadn’t slept and had been wandering through the castle’s corridors until he had found him.  
  
Pidge was a mystery to him. He only ever saw him at night in the most curious corners of the towers and dungeons. The first time they had met had been somewhere in Keiths third year while he had been looking for said ring around the Astronomy tower. Pidge had been there, the lost item in his hands, as surprised as Keith to see another student up and about.

Not interested in the other one initially Keith had grown curious after finding out about Pidge’s incredible intel about the castle’s secret passages, passwords and hidden rooms. Pidge in return had only ever been interested in the ring for whatever reason. He wouldn’t tell.  
  
The ring was one of the few things Keith had left of his mother. He couldn’t remember her, having been to little to recall her face or voice. His father had told him fantastic stories about her, but never how she died. He couldn’t ever bring himself to press too far.  
  
The accessory was made of smoothly sanded, black stone that was laced with barely visible purple veins. Pidge had sworn to him he needed it only for a day, two maximum. Just to take a good look, maybe try a few analyzing spells on it. Still he hadn’t been able to part ways with it for more than a day. Or rather he hadn’t had the need to.  
  
Pidge regularly wanted favors, just as Keith did, so until now they had struck a few deals here and there. The one thing Pidge hadn’t revealed were the password protected passages. One of which Keith’s future in the school might depend upon.  
He touched the stone beneath his shirt. If he gave up his only leverage he wouldn’t be able to get any big favors or deals out of Pidge. But desperate times called for desperate measures.  
  
‘Payment upfront.’  
  
He snapped back into reality. The constant lack of sleep wasn’t doing well on his attention span. Pidge was standing in front of him, feet planted firmly into the ground, arms crossed. If Keith hadn’t been a whole head taller than him he might’ve even been intimidated. He let his head hang in defeat as he reached under the collar of his shirt and pulled out a little ring on a leather cord.  
  
‘You still don’t want to tell me why you want this so badly.’  
  
‘Nope.’, was the frank answer, while the necklace was snatched out of his hand and inspected thoroughly.  
  
‘You gotta be careful with it. I need it back in one piece, Pidge!’ Keith murmured in a disgruntled manner. The other one had already stopped paying attention to him, his nose almost touching the piece of jewelry as he was inspecting it.  
  
‘Pidge!’  
  
‘Yeah, yeah, I got it.’  
  
‘Pidge, the deal!’  
  
Silence.  
  
‘Where do you need to go?’

  
………………………………………….  
  


The great hall was buzzing with the chatter of students shoveling eggs with bacon, cottage cheese scones and fruit onto their plates, talking about their upcoming classes and assignments. Keith had been here since the first slices of toasted bread had appeared out of thin air and was gnawing at his pencil again. He couldn’t eat much, nerves made his stomach drop every time the Snitch started to vibrate against his chest. So he sat there with his piece of bread, a glass of pumpkin juice and the latest edition of the Daily Prophet.

 

 _Muggleborns slaughtered in York_  
_A town in terror_  
_Ministry promises support_

  
He almost let out a bitter laugh. Although the laws had become incredibly strict after the war had ended, former followers of Who-who-still-mustn’t-be-named occupied ministry offices and worked as Aurors. Keith had never been politically involved, but as a Muggle-born this topic kind of concerned him. The only reason to read the pulpy magazine was to stay up to date with current events.  
  
He would have loved to use his phone, but the union of Scottish Highlands, thick, thousand year old walls and the locals’ refusal to install at least a basic cable line left his cell as a glorified alarm clock. The new headmaster had partly allowed electronic devices, but what use was a phone without signal. He flicked through some articles about the latest robes, more to give his hands something to do than to actually read it, and stopped on the sports section. There it was, tiny in a corner but still.

_Quidditch Junior League looking for new teams_

  
If only… well a boy could dream. He was taking a sip of his juice when suddenly someone yanked the newspaper out of his hands, causing him to spill it over himself, his toast and the table.  
  
‘I swear to god you humongous…’  
  
‘Ah, ah, ah, mullet, choose your next words carefully!’, said the lanky guy next to him, flapping his Daily Prophet in front of his face. ‘I believe we had a pretty complicated homework assignment from Professor Honerva, di-dn’t-we? And unless you are a different Keith, I dare bet my handsome butt that you didn’t do it. Again.’  
  
‘What do you want, Lance?’, Keith growled with a warning glance. He had completely forgotten. Calculating ingredient conversions was not a very lengthy assignment, but complicated nevertheless. He couldn’t really afford to flunk the class, he was in the bottom group of students as it was. Why didn’t he do it in the first place again?  
  
The Snitch in his chest pocket reminded him promptly. Lance, in the meantime had already started rambling about all the things he needed from Keith in exchange for letting him copy his potions assignment.  
  
‘Hold on a second!’, Keith said, stopping Lance in his tracks. ‘One thing. You can have one piece of information from me. Your scraggly conversions are barely worth that much…’  
  
Lance made the face that Keith always wanted to punch.  
  
‘I beg to differ, Katie helped me this time, which means they are impeccable!’, Lance made a smacking sound while doing a chef’s kiss.  
  
‘Katie who?’  
  
‘Ravenclaw Katie! The tiny one? I can’t believe you don’t know Ravenclaw Katie, she’s this little genius filled with…’  
  
‘Lance, what do you want?’  
  
He wished he had remembered the spell for drying fabric. His shirt started to stick to his skin in a revolting fashion. Bowing down a little so the taller boy next to him wouldn’t notice the  golden ball now outlined more visibly by the damp fabric of his robe, he put the last piece of soaked bread into his mouth.  
  
‘When is Professor Slav patrolling the third-floor corridors today?’, Lance asked. ‘I need to get to … well… someone.’ He wiggled his eyebrows in a way that made Keith want to reverse his toast up unto the plate.  
  
‘Give me the assignment, I’ll scribble down the times for you at the bottom.’Keith said standing up and moving to leave the Great Hall. He barely heard Lance’s calls behind him, a mixture of praise and threats mixed between the location of the document.  
  
He’d had a rough start with Lance. The other Gryffindors in their year had accepted quickly that Keith wasn’t the social type, keeping to himself mostly and scaring off approaches with comments too blunt and honest. Not that he’d done it on purpose, he had just never really learned how to BE social.  
  
They had gotten into their fair share of fights, Lance and him. Keith had never actually initiated a conversation between them, but usually was the first to throw a punch. Lance just unnerved him. He had this absurd idea of Keith being his rival, and wouldn’t let him hear the end of it, teasing everything from his heritage, grades, to his repulsion over Keith’s hairstyle.  
  
The one thing Lance was good for was his homework. Although he mostly seemed aloof and a little dull, he was pretty hard working and had friends and connections all throughout the four houses. Keith could respect that. Understand, no, but respect.  
  
First, he needed a clean uniform though. Hurrying out of the Great Hall he almost ran into a group of students who were in for a late breakfast. He looked up to see who he had almost crashed into and immediately regretted it. Grey eyes mustered first his face and then raked down onto his chest, where the ugly orange juice had left it sticking to his skin.

_Takashi Shirogane._

  
His heart decided to leap out of the window into the black lake and to take a dive with the merfolk there. Why did he have to bring the goddamn Snitch to breakfast, he ought’ve been smarter than that. Mumbling an illegible apology he squeezed by the older students to hide the burn of his cheeks, avoiding the knowing stare of Albus Dumbledores painting up on the wall.

 

Screw everyone of them.

 

Himself most of all.  
  
  
…………………………………..  
  


He was early for potions. Lance’s homework had been surprisingly neat and logical, and Keith had been able to do them under his desk during Professor Sanders’ lesson. He needed to ask Lance for his connections to Ravenclaw Katie one day.  
  
Pacing nervously up and down the corridor in front of the classroom he started brooding again over this afternoons enterprise. Pidge had given him the secret passage and taught him the needed spell. After potions he’d quickly return to the dorm, get the Snitch, sneak into the Quidditch supplies closet and then never think about it again. He was too young to die of high blood pressure, and he hadn’t been that stressed since the pineapple incident.  
  
Noticing the creak of Professor Honerva’s office open he turned and found the same pair of eyes that had already stared him down at breakfast that morning. They were raking over his chest, looking for something that was no longer there. Of course it was him. He thanked his past self for leaving the Snitch hidden in a secret compartment of the suitcase under his bed.  
  
Shirogane just smiled faintly. He had rings under his eyes that made him look a lot older than a 17-year-old.  
  
‘You need to take care where you are going.’, he said, patting Keith’s chest in a friendly fashion. Or so it would have seemed to a bystander. Something devious flashed over Shirogane’s eyes as he turned away and walked down the corridor without another word. Keith just stood there, only allowing himself to let out the breath he had been holding when the other disappeared behind a corner.  
  
He felt a stare at the back of his neck, but when he turned around the door to Professor Honerva’s office was already shut close. Keith sighed and let himself slide down the wall beside the classroom entrance. Taking out Lance’s homework assignment he played with the thought of giving him the wrong times and watch him being forced to deal with Professor Slav after curfew.

  
  
………………………………  
  


The sun was about to set, painting the statues in the 1st floor corridor near the library an orange grey. It had been empty for the last ten minutes, but Keith was waiting for a certain person. As Pidge had predicted, he could hear faint footsteps in the distance, announcing the approach of Professor King. Crouched between a statue of a bearded man riding a wild boar bare chested and wand in hand and a giant potted Peperomia he was well concealed from anyone who’d walk by it. The plant next to him rustled its leaves in protest whenever he accidentally grazed it, so he pressed his back closer against the boar’s behind.  
  
Nothing he hadn’t done before. He had been sneaking around the castle as soon he had set foot in it six years ago. He wasn’t as knowledgable as Pidge but he got around pretty well. The Professor’s footsteps were very close now and Keith’s heart rate increased from the adrenaline pumping through his veins.  
He could hear the expensive designer slippers tapping on the marble floor with no hurry. Keith held his breath when Professor King passed him. He saw the back of the neatly gelled hairstyle getting farther and farther away.  
  
There were about two minutes before the next Professor would pass the corridor, so he quickly slipped out from behind the statue.  
  
He never saw it coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the chapter, even if it was a little short ^^' I bet you can guess who is busting Keith in the corridor...  
> thanx again to Chicken, Sunnie and Meli for proof reading, providing critique and ideas <3


	3. Nolite turbari

Before Keith could react in any way he found himself thrown back against the wall, his head hitting the stone with a little too much force. It made tiny white dots dance before his eyes and bells ring in his ears. A hand was groping clinically over his upper torso and by pure instinct he raised his wand. Before he could mutter a curse though another hand clamped down over his mouth. Keith willed his eyes open, struggling against vertigo and the body pinning him back.  
  
‘Can you tell me why there is a Snitch in your pocket?’  
  
He knew the voice, he knew the silver hair and the grey, intriguing eyes, the subtle smirk. Keith thought of biting into the skin covering his mouth. He fixed the grey eyes in front of him and willed the rest of his field of his vision to stop spinning.  
  
‘Don’t even think of hexing me. People know where I am, and why I am here.’  
  
Keith growled into the hand pressed unto his lips. When the other released him he snarled back bolder than he felt, hands clenched into fists to hide his shaky fingers.  
  
‘It’s none of your fucking business!’  
  
‘Now that’s where you are mistaken,’, Takashi Shirogane said with an unnerving tug of his eyebrow. He braced himself placing a hand on the wall next to Keith’s head, holding something golden up to his face. It was uncomfortably close. He felt a pull at the bottom of his stomach.  
  
‘When a golden Snitch gets lost during my individual training session it is definitely my business to see to its safe return.’  
  
He must have taken it while Keith had been trying to recover from the hit to his head. He could feel darkness tugging at the corner of his vision. Maybe blacking out would save him the embarrassment of answering. Keeping his mouth shut he tried to regain his sense of balance while evading the other's glare.  
  
‘You are that kid that’s been stalking me for a while now, aren’t you?’, Shirogane asked, cocking his head to the left. Eyes wide open and blood coloring his cheeks crimson, Keith wasn’t able to hide the shame he felt. His eyes darted from left to right, worsening the dizziness. The familiar feel of panic creeping through his veins, blocking out almost every other sensation beside the rush of blood in his ears and the prickling of his skin.  
  
He couldn’t escape without hexing or fighting the other one, the statue blocked his flight on his left and the cursed plant on his right. Keith was trapped, physically and emotionally. He felt his breath starting to come in short huffs, the black at the corner of his vision spreading. Everything was too close. He tried to suppress the panic attack overpowering the threat of blacking out when he suddenly felt Shirogane step away.  
  
‘Breathe.’  
  
He did as he was told, not having much of a choice. Shirogane kept his distance until Keith’s breathing patterns had come closer to normal. When had he slipped down into a crouch again? His thoughts were whirling around keeping him dizzy so he kept his eyes and mouth shut. Slow down. Breathe. He flinched when he felt a hand on his knee.

  
‘Can you stand?’, Shirogane asked him. Keith didn’t react. He felt empty. What would Kolivan say if they expelled him? He wouldn’t say anything, he’d just give Keith that look he knew and hated. Except it would be a hundred times worse.  
  
The warmth on his knee grounded him. He felt his heart rate come down slowly, his breaths started getting deeper and he hesitantly opened his eyes. How did you react to someone accusing you of stalking them. Especially if they weren’t completely wrong. Shirogane was looking at him, the expression in his face had shifted to something Keith couldn’t make out.  Another voice called out from his left.  
  
‘Mr. Shirogane, I’ve been looking for you! I believe we have a study session to update you on your Astronomy curriculum? ’  
  
It was over. He thought of his bed in the Gryffindor dorm, of the corner in the Common Room he had always been reading in. He’d miss it. He’d even miss Lance or Rollo. Kolivan would be furious with him. Taking care of magical creatures for the rest of his life wasn’t the worst future he could think of. Still a bad one, but not the worst.  
  
The voice still talking about Astronomy to the Slytherin crouching next to him sounded somewhat familiar. Before he could dig through his brain a little more though he found a hand slide behind his back and shift him to his feet. Startled he looked up to find a friendly old face with round glasses and cropped grey hair facing Shirogane and him. He had only ever seen that teacher at the table in the Great Hall during meals, but had never really been interested enough to remember his name.  
  
‘I’m sorry, Professor Holt, I knew I’d catch you here. If possible, could we postpone the lesson to the weekend? I need to aid this Gryffindor to his dorm, I just found him outside the library.’  
  
‘Oh my, what’s wrong, boy?’, Professor Holt asked. He seemed genuinely worried which unnerved Keith and added to his growing discomfort, being pressed firmly against Shirogane’s side. At least it was warm.  
  
‘Didn’t sleep a lot.’, Keith mumbled. He wasn’t lying.  
  
‘Well, it is a little inconvenient, but I need to take care of a family issue anyway. Have you heard about my boy Matt, Mr. Shirogane? I believe you would’ve discouraged him if you had been there.’  
  
‘Of course, Sir!’, Shirogane said with an apologetic smile. It looked fake to Keith. The Snitch had disappeared somewhere into the robes lined with green and silver, nowhere to be seen. Professor holt scratched his neck with a resigned sigh and took a step closer.  
  
‘Alright. You’re doing great, Takashi. Take care.’, he whispered, the words only meant for Shirogane’s. Curiosity fought its way over Keith’s urge to wriggle out of the others grip and bolt. Looking up into the Slytherins face he found the forced smile from before still lingering there.  
  
‘Thank you, Sir. Have a good evening, give my condolences to Matt.’, Shiro said as Professor Holt turned around to leave.  
  
‘Very funny, Mr. Shirogane…’, he said as he raised a hand in farewell.  
  
They stood there until the teacher’s footsteps were no longer audible. He felt Shirogane beside him relax as he dropped the arm that had lingered on Keith’s back. He sat down on the stone bench at the opposite wall and leaned onto his elbows, silently watching Keith who didn’t know what to do next. Running was pretty useless at this point. Instead he said the first thing that was on his mind.  
  
‘Why did you lie for me.’  
  
Shirogane kept his eyes fixed on him, as if to analyze the Gryffindor, before answering.  
  
‘I didn’t. Not really. You look terrible and you definitely should be back to your dorm. I just found you two corridors farther away than I told Professor Holt. But don’t think I’ll do it again if you don’t tell me why you stole the Snitch. And in the most obvious way at that. Were you trying to get caught?’  
  
Keith bit his lips. The panic had faded, the discomfort had stayed. At least he would go down standing upright. Straightening his back and putting a determined expression on his face he looked back at the Slytherin.  
  
‘I don’t have an excuse. I didn’t mean to steal the Snitch, but I panicked.’  
  
‘Why were you there in the first place?’, Shirogane asked him. ‘I’ve never said anything until now, but this went too far. You’ve been at most of my trainings, at the matches. You keep watching me. Either you have a very reasonable explanation for all of this or I have to report you to the teachers.’  
  
Keith grimaced. If only he had a proper answer for it. His stance betrayed the inner war between his pride and his fear of being expelled. Fear won, as it usually did. Keith wasn’t a coward, additionally he wasn’t one who knew when to quit. Some things weren’t worth the struggle though. Being expelled was one of those, so he took the last shot he had.  
  
‘Wait.’, he said when Shirogane stood up and turned to walk away. He was eyed with suspicion. Keith tried to find the right words without sounding like a complete fanatic. His father’s face flashed before his eyes.  
  
‘I always wanted to fly but… I never went to the tryouts. The teacher there hates me. I’d given up on it but then I saw you play your first match a year ago and I thought… I thought I could try again. I studied and copied your moves. I … I never wanted to steal anything, it was stupid, it wouldn’t go back into the box, it was flailing its damned wings and then I heard you come back and panicked and just ran.’  
  
He looked over at the Peperomia next to him which seemed to rustle in amusement over his shame.  
  
‘What were you going to do before I caught you just now?’  
  
‘I was gonna put it back.’  
  
‘How were you planning on getting into the room? Did you steal a key too?’  
  
‘NO!’, Keith answered a little too loud. ‘I have…my ways.’  
  
Pidge’s ways, really, but he didn’t have to know that. Shirogane hadn’t moved throughout their whole conversation and Keith had to suppress the urge to bite at his nails. Or his pencil. Or anything really.  
He only saw the movement out of the corner of his eyes, something small shooting towards him. He caught it in his left hand without thinking. Between his fingers the Snitch reflected the last sun rays disappearing behind the window of the corridor. Keith looked up in confusion.  
  
‘Let’s go.’ Shirogane said, looking at him expectantly, arms crossed and head tipped backwards a little. He hesitated; Pidge would probably kill him if he found out Keith had spilled one of his secrets to a prefect, but after his pride had gone flying out the window along with his credibility, he might as well. Looking at his watch he calculated the next time a teacher would patrol the corridor. They had about 10 minutes.  
  
He walked past Shirogane with certain steps, ignoring the Slytherin’s surprised eyebrow arch. The wall he headed for was located at the arch in front of them. It was decorated in marble woodland creatures playfully arranged around leaves and berries. On the bottom left there was a squirrel. Its eyes seemed to follow Keith as he purposefully walked towards it and put his index finger to its nose. The small animal moved into action and with a quick turn of its head bit Keith.  
  
Sucking in a short breath through his teeth he squeezed a little droplet of blood out of the wound and smeared it onto the one-two-third brick next to the rodent. He tipped it twice with his wand and murmured transductus. Nothing happened, at least not visible to the naked eye. Keith turned around, and held out his hand to the Slytherin with the incredulous look on his face.  
  
‘It’s not gonna let you through.’, was all he could say before he looked towards the wall again. When he felt Shirogane taking his hand hesitantly he took a step forward, almost pulling the other after himself right into the stone wall before them. Shirogane let out a small surprised gasp, but it was muted by the bricks swallowing them as if they had never been there.  
  
And with them, the small smear of blood on the third brick left to the squirrel in the marble arch faded until there was no trace left that anything had ever happened in the 1st floor corridor near the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a short chapter, so the next one will go up on wednesday as compensation <3 Hope you liked it....


	4. Carpe Noctis

His hair was plastered to his neck and forehead with sweat when he rushed back. The adrenaline in his veins let his spirit fly to heights he hadn’t known before. This was what being alive truly felt like. Not slowing down he took two stairs at once up the last flight to the Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady, the portrait guarding the entrance to the common room, was fast asleep in her frame.   
  
‘Quiznak’, Keith said to the painting, out of breath more from excitement than actual exhaustion. The Fat Lady opened her eyes, an annoyed look contorting her features. She looked like an angry muffin with a bad wig.   
  
‘You again. Do you know what time it is? I need my beauty sleep if I want to sustain this complexion of mine!’, she sneered at him, dramatically flipping her sequin sash behind her back.   
  
‘Ma’am, aren’t you a painting?’, Keith sighed unnerved. He didn’t feel like coddling up to the woman. Instead he wanted to run up walls and climb the Astronomy Tower and take a swim in the Black Lake. The rush of the Quidditch field had started fading slowly, but his heart still beat in his ears. He felt like he was on top of the world. The Fat Lady though looked as if Keith had offended her great grandfather.   
  
‘Young man, do you have any idea how old I am?’, she asked, her voice turning to a high pitched screech. The painting looked Renaissance-y, but who was he to tell. He was more into sketches, art history had never interested him. Neither had the regular discussions with the Fat Lady over her appearance, singing skill or how her frame urgently needed cleaning from all the students groping carelessly at it.   
  
‘Quiznak, for Christ’s sake.”, Keith hung his head in frustration, cold hands stuffed into his pockets. This woman started to ruin his mood.   
  
‘You are aware that I could always inform the headmaster of your nightly activities, boy. You know why I don’t? I like you, you know, you remind me of another student I grew quite fond of many years ago. But do not think I will be lenient if you keep disrespecting me in this manner, I am a lady after all.’   
  
_As if._   
  
‘Quiznak, esteemed Madam, if it is no trouble for you. I deeply regret waking you from your slumber, but seeing your face you could do without a hundred years of sleep and still look as stunning as a youthful damsel.’   
  
Keith forced the sweetest smile he could unto his face. He simultaneously cursed and thanked Shakespeare for his small knowledge of cheesy flattery. In his mind he looked like an absurd rendition of the Joker, the friendly expression not reaching his eyes, but it seemed to please the Fat Lady.   
  
‘See, that wasn’t so hard, was it now? Oof, the youth nowadays. Off you go.’   
  
Her palm on her cheek, head turned away melodramatically, the painting swung open to reveal the entrance to the Gryffindor common rooms. Keith could see orange and yellow specks of light flicker over the crimson couches, the fireplace the only light source illuminating the round chamber. As quietly as he could he stepped through it, trying not to wake the 2nd year that had fallen asleep in a cushioned piece of furniture with a book on his lap, snoring quietly.   
  
He tiptoed up the stairs to the 6th years’ dorm room, but stopped in his tracks when he saw the small stripe of light under the door. It was a few minutes past midnight, so it wasn’t completely unusual for the other boys to still be up. But normally Keith was in there with them. He didn’t feel like explaining himself, but sharing the common room upholstery with the younger kid didn’t sound appealing to him. Neither did sleeping on the carpet in front the dorm room.   
  
He opened the door slowly, a small part of him hoping he could slip in unnoticed. As soon as his face was through the opening though, he found three blinding lights pointed at his face.   
  
‘Look who decided to honor us with his presence, boys!’, the familiar voice of Lance announced. Keith rolled his eyes and shoved the three wands out of his face. He had to feel his way over to his bed along the wall, still partly blinded by the bright blotches dancing in front of his eyes. Lance didn’t let it go. As expected.   
  
‘Where have you been again, mullet? That’s the second night this week, this guy gets more action than all of us together.’, Lance  said, turning his head with an envious expression towards the other two boys in the room. Keith flopped unto his bed and pushed his shoes, robes and sweaty shirt to the ground, ignoring Lance’s analysis of all the possible girls he might have been visiting. He’d shower in the morning. Lying back, staring at the ceiling, his hands folded under his head. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards for a second while he went over the evens of the evening again. Lance snorted.   
  
‘Oooh, look at that face, Rollo, he definitely got laid.’   
  
  


…………………………………..  
  
  


His laugh was infectious. Even though Keith's cheeks were burning with shame again, he couldn’t help but smile. Of course he hadn’t thought of the most obvious way into the Quidditch supplies closet, which would have been through the door. Shirogane was Head Boy AND Quidditch captain, of course he would have had access.  
  
They hadn’t exchanged a word after exiting the secret passage behind a tapestry. Shirogane had watched him struggle with shoving the fluttering Snitch back into the small compartment of the wooden chest. When Keith had accomplished the task and had turned around to disappear back through the secret passage, he had held him back by the shoulder with a big grin.  
  
Now, five minutes later the older student was still chuckling while they were walking back the official way, which was through the actual door and adjacent corridor. Keith didn’t feel as horrible as he had expected. Shirogane, although mockingly grinning at him didn’t make him feel like he was actually being mocked. It was intriguing, being with him, and irritatingly easy.

 

‘I’m sorry.’, Shirogane said, startling Keith out of his thoughts.

 

‘What?’

 

‘About earlier. I shouldn’t have cornered you that way, I was just afraid you’d bolt. But I came on way too strong. I didn’t mean for you to… well…make you that uncomfortable.’

 

Keith sighed.

 

‘Nice euphemism.’, he saw the other stiffen a little awkwardly beside him. It unnerved him, he didn’t feel like being pitied.

 

‘Look, I get _those_ sometimes, it’s not a big deal…’. He felt exasperated, wanting to explain himself at the same time as shutting down and keeping quiet.

 

‘I know.’, Shirogane said. ‘I know _those.’_

 

Keith didn’t reply. _He knew those._ That gigantic, broad guy curling on the floor in a panic attack looked pathetic in his mind, and he instantly felt guilty for it. He’d never seen himself while it happened, but considering how it felt he must look miserable as well. What had happened to the boy walking next to him? Silver hair. That gigantic scar over his nose. Maybe he really knew how a panic attack felt like.

 

He wasn’t going to ask about things that were none of his fucking business. Neither did he want to talk more about his earlier episode, or the moment Shirogane had understood what had been going on with Keith. It was more than he usually got, distance and comprehension. The awkward silence made him restless, until Shirogane decided to break it.

 

‘So, Professor Hira? The one who’s also the matches’ referee?’  


Keith blinked in surprise about the unexpected topic. ‘Oh...Yeah, she hates me. I figured it would be no use trying for the team.’, he answered in a resigning tone.

  
‘You do know that ultimately the captains decide who makes the team?’   
  
‘Sure, and then at the next match she’d pick me out for even breathing in the wrong direction…’, Keith said bitterly.   
  
‘What did you do? Fly off without permission in class?’   
  
‘I… uhm. It wasn’t really my fault.’ Keith didn’t know if he should share his shenanigans with Golden Boy Shirogane. He’d had enough instances of getting embarrassed by his own stupidity for a day, plus he’d been busted breaking the rules so many times it would be easy for Shirogane to just rattle him out. The Slytherin didn’t seem too bothered by the Gryffindor’s disregard of rules and regulations though. He also didn’t stop staring at Keith from the side, one eyebrow raised in disbelief.

 

Well, at least he might get another laugh out of him.  
  
‘Do you know these red cherry candies from the Weasley shop?’, Keith asked. The other shook his head.  
  
‘They are sweet and sour and explode in your mouth. Well, I had one of those in my pocket in my first flying lesson. It fell out when we took off the ground.’  
  
‘That’s it?’  
  
‘It exploded in her hair. Did you know Professor Hira had very fair hair once?’  
  
‘No way…’ The Slytherin’s eyes looked incredulous.  
  
‘Yup. Pink… permanently. They even brought that Weasley guy here, but he couldn’t do anything. No matter what spell or method they tried. It has been growing back pink ever since…’  
  
Shirogane didn’t laugh, but Keith was almost sure he could see his eyes water up with suppressed amusement. The corners of his mouth were twitching. So he wasn’t this completely rule abiding perfect student after all. They had almost reached the Great Hall. Outside the sun had set completely and their way was lit up by the torches mounted in regular intervals between the tapestries depicting various scenes from the Tales of Beedle the Bard. Shirogane tried again.  
  
‘Look, I’m sure that even if you ruined her hair, probably for the rest of her life, she would be professional enough to distance herself? She’s a teacher after all. ’ He looked at the Gryffindor with raised brow. One day it would get stuck up there if he permanently wore that expression on his face Keith thought, ignoring what the other had said. He had yet to meet a teacher that was professional enough not to let his reputation influence their opinion of him. Shirogane seemed tired of waiting for Keith’s answer.  
  
‘I never got your name, Cherrybomb.’, he chuckled out of the blue. Keith frowned.  
  
‘My name is Kogane. Don’t call me that.’  
  
‘Honestly, your story is gold, Kogane. Cherrybombing Professor Hira, I can’t believe it… I’m Takashi Shirogane by the way, usually people just call me Shiro.’  
  
_Shiro_  
  
They had come to a halt. Keith took the hand stretched out towards him and shook it.   
  
‘Call me Keith then.’, he said. It felt only polite to offer. Or maybe he wanted him to smile again. It was the longest conversation he’d had in a while, and it was nice. Somehow talking was easier with this guy.   
  
‘Keith.’, was all Shiro said with the smile Keith had wanted to cause, letting go of his hand. He should smile back, he thought. Next time maybe. The Slytherin started one more approach, he wasn’t one to give up easily it seemed.  
  
‘Maybe you should give the whole thing another chance. I would really like to see you fly at least once. See what you can do on a broom.’  
  
His brain wasn’t processing things right, he was sure of it. He just stood there, looking back into the other’s eyes, trying to comprehend the information. They were standing where the corridor opened up into the entrance chamber of the Great Hall. Shiro repeated it again. He had heard correctly.  
  
‘Why?`, was all the answer he could muster up.  
  
‘If you show me what you can do, I can tell you if you stand a chance. If you are good enough I want you to try out. Quidditch is something so…uhm…’, he looked at the high ceiling looking for the right words to sell it.  
  
‘…liberating’, Keith said silently. That’s what flying was for him. The air in his hair, his lungs and fingers burning from the strain and the Adrenaline being pumped through his body from the speed and excitement. Shiro looked down at him with a gleeful expression. He should really smile back.  
  
‘Exactly. And instead of lurking around the castle grounds after curfew, stalking fellow students or stealing Quidditch supplies you could actually take part without breaking any rules. I suppose it was you who borrowed a broom once or twice a week? Varkon was furious because he couldn’t figure out if he was imagining things. Poor guy!’, Shiro chuckled.  
  
Keith opened his mouth, and then closed it again. Lying was no use, and Shiro seemed more amused than angered by the janitor’s distress, so he decided to just sigh and let his head hang a little. He wanted to fly. He wanted to play.  
  
‘There’s no room on the Gryffindor team.’, Keith said. Even if he was good enough, they already had filled every position. He had gone over his possiblities a million times in the last five years. Quidditch wasn’t meant for him. Not here at least.

  
‘Look, I saw your face when we were in the storage room. You looked like a kid on Christmas morning. How about you show me what you can do, and then we can talk about your worries afterwards?’, Shiro said more as an instruction than a question. Without waiting for Keith to answer he turned around and started walking towards the staircase opposite the Great Hall. Dumbledore was there, leaned against the golden frame of his painting, fake sleeping again Keith assumed. He hurried after the Slytherin, calling after him.   
  
‘Hey, wait! It’s too late!’   
  
‘Not when I’m with you.’   
  
‘I don’t have a training cloak. Or gloves. Or a helmet.’   
  
‘There are some at the Quidditch arena.’   
  
‘I don’t have a broom.’   
  
Shiro stopped, turned around and gave him a partly wicked smile.   
  
‘I do.’   



	5. Vetus Memorias

Keith’s cheeks burnt. As did his hands. The fingerless gloves did too little to protect him. The cold air cut his skin like little razors, the protectors weighed him down but in that moment he was feeling none of it.  
  
As it turned out Shiro did not only own the latest and by far most expensive Quidditch broom there was, but also its predecessor. Made out of Cherrywood with golden etchings on the handle it matched the red-gold training outfit Shiro had taken from the Gryffindor changing room. The Slytherin couldn’t hold in another Cherrybomb pun when they discussed the Red Lions manufacturing, and Keith had almost smiled that time. The joke had been awful. But Shiro was so amused that he couldn’t help but let his mood be dragged along.  
  
Riding the broom was exceptional. The Red Lion didn’t feel like a simple Quidditch broom under Keith - it felt like a magical beast with its own mind, telling him what direction to go and where to turn. The second he mounted it, everything else was instantly pushed to the back of his mind. The only important thing was evading the little gummyballs Shiro was magically catapulting at him.  
  
‘Nice job!’, he called up to Keith, enhancing his voice with his wand. ‘Next level! Evade the black ones, catch the grey ones!’  
  
It was easy. Almost too easy. He dove under and around the darker balls catching the grey ones and tossing them back towards the Slytherin. Whenever he seemed to miss one, Red immediately urged him in that direction.  
He was disappointed when he noticed the black balls had stopped shooting through the air. Shiro was smiling up at him from fifty yards below with a wide grin and motioned him to come down. He merely thought about shifting his weight to descent but the broom was already tipping downwards.  
  
‘You know, I’m not usually one to glorify breaking the rules,’Shiro said with glowing eyes and a teeth flashing grin when Keith effortlessly landed next to him, ‘but I am really glad you snuck out and panic-grabbed the Snitch. You have an amazing talent, Keith!’  
  
Keith didn’t know what to answer. All he could do was stupidly grin back at the Slytherin, Red Lion clamped against his chest because he needed something to hold on to. The floor felt unstable after that flight.  
  
‘I’m going to talk to Acxa. I don’t think she needs a seeker right now, but you could at least be reserve for matches. It would be a total waste if you didn’t play! You’re incredible!’ Shiro’s eyes were lit with excitement and he paced around Keith while mustering him, as if he expected to find an explanation for his surprising talent.

‘Why Seeker?’, Keith asked. It was his preferred position, but how had he known?  
  
‘Anything else would be a waste of speed and reflexes, I mean have you seen yourself fly? I haven’t been able to hit you once, even though I was aiming without restraint in the end! It was like you’re one with the broom, it was incredible to watch!’ Shiro was showing all the excitement that Keith felt on the inside. Until that moment.  
  
_Become one with the broom._  
  
The corners of Keith’s mouth dropped back down. What if it really wasn’t him, but the Red Lion? He clutched the broomstick harder. His face must have been a little too obvious, he thought, as Shiro stopped in his tracks and raised his eyebrows at him.  
  
‘What’s wrong? I thought you wanted this?’, he asked, cocking his head to the side.  
  
Keith’s cheeks couldn’t get any redder than they already were from the cold air, nevertheless he averted his face.  
‘It’s…. It sounds stupid, but…. I don’t think it was me. Red was…’  
  
‘Red?’, Shiro asked, and he grinned again.  
  
Keith wanted to disappear into the ground. Or get back on the broom and just fly away. He sounded like a crazy person, claiming imaginary connections with and pet-naming another guy’s Quidditch broom. Brows furrowed and head hung low he felt a hand on his shoulder.  
  
Shiro was standing opposite him, searching his eyes.  
  
‘Keith, listen to me. When you chose your wand, you felt a connection to it, didn’t you?’  
  
Keith nodded hesitantly. He knew where the other was going, but it sounded a little too good to be true.  
  
‘Just as wands, the brooms from the Paladin series are manufactured not only from wood but with a magical core to make them react more intuitively for professional players. You seem to have found a connection with the Red Lion, so it might seem to you that the broom guided you, but without you it’s just a piece of wood.’ Shiro’s words had gotten faster and more excited with every second, his hand squeezing Keith’s shoulder a little too hard.  
  
‘You did something I could never do with the Red Lion. It enabled you to anticipate my moves way faster than you would have with another broom. Yet a different person wouldn’t have been able to do that, Keith!’ Shiro put his second hand on Keith’s other shoulder, facing him directly now. His gaze was almost too intense.  
  
‘I want to try one more thing. I want you to train with the Bludgers. And me.’ The Slytherin was already hurrying over to a storage closet near the entrance gate.  
  
‘What?!’  
  
Keith was overwhelmed with everything Shiro had just told him. Shiro wanted to train with him. Golden Boy Shiro, Takashi Shirogane Shiro, good grades Shiro, wanted to train with HIM. He almost let himself enjoy the feeling, but there was a thought brooding in the back of his mind. Even IF he really had connected to the broom in his hand, what would happen to the Red Lion as soon as they left this field?

 

Keith wanted it. Desperately. He was already estimating the amount of money he had to offer Shiro for it, knowing he’d probably have to work through his next fifteen summers to afford it. Given that the Slytherin even sold it to him. He almost didn’t notice Shiro returning as he jogged back with an ancient looking wooden chest in his hands and his Black Lion under one arm.  
  
‘These are pretty old and a little more violent than the newer ones we have in the castle, but I think you can handle it.’

He opened the chest, revealing two badly dented Bludgers rattling against their restraints. Pulling out one of the bats from the chest he swung one leg over the Black Lion and looked up at Keith expectantly.  
  
‘Ready?’  
  
  
  
……………………………………………………..  
  
  
  
_It matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be._  
  
He was nine when his father died. The police officers woke him up in the early morning hours. Snow had been falling the previous night, and although it had melted off the streets and cars already, it had covered the branches of the pine trees in the front yard. It made the whole situation far too christmasy.

 

The sun had barely risen, painting the sky a gradient of pink and purple. Keith was just standing in the doorframe while two officers talked to him in voices way too calm, eyes way too sympathetic. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, his mind had blanked out after ‘Your Dad isn’t coming home.’  
  
The first weeks had been a blur of fistfights and apathy. People that had been comforting him with unsolicited hugs and soft words had turned away in frustration after he didn’t _get over it_ after a month. Except for Kolivan.  
  
Kolivan found him frozen half to death under a bridge after Keith had bolted from the orphanage. Kolivan was big and warm. Kolivan was quiet. And he was used to caring for feral creatures. Keith knew nothing about him, except that he loved magical beasts, and that he was gone somewhere secret during the week.  
  
Even if Keith wanted to run away, he’d have nowhere to run to. The cottage where Kolivan lived was surrounded by a giant forest on the one side, and a mix of swamp and plains and the sea on the other. And then there were the animals. Kolivan took care of between two and twenty at once, and running away would have left a lot of them without food or medicine. Keith never asked why Kolivan had trusted him not to abandon those creatures. He didn’t know why he felt responsible for them, but somehow they reminded Keith of himself. Abandoned, hurt and a little feral.  
So he learned. He learned about Bowtruckles and Doxies, Griffins and Kneazles, Murtlaps and  Nifflers. He learned what they fed on, how to calm them, which liked to be pet.  
  
The first time he effectively ran away was one year after Kolivan had taken him in. He’d always pestered the giant man about the reason he’d become his guardian. One night Kolivan answered.  
  
‘I knew your mother.’, was all he said, getting up from their dinner and leaving the hut. Keith ran after him, crying, shouting, trying to get anything, literally ANYTHING out of Kolivan. When he disapparated Keith packed his bag.  
  
Again Kolivan found him almost dead in the woods four days later, hidden under a hollowed out tree trunk, famished and weak. He recovered quicker that time, but his absence had left the Cockatrice chicks without protection. They were just gone when he went searching for them. Kolivan never said a single word about it and Keith cried himself to sleep every day for a week.

 

He had been 10 years old.

 

He never ran away again.  


  
………………………..  
  


The sun was starting to hang low over the Dark Forest, the gloomy October sky betraying the fact that it was only four in the afternoon. Kolivan was walking through his pumpkin field with a giant watering can as Keith light-footedly jumped over the low stone wall.  
  
‘Hey’, he greeted. Kolivan didn’t raise his head but nodded to show he’d heard. As the game-keeper and keeper of keys he was usually busy, and due to his silent nature Keith only stopped by on the weekend to help with the current creature in need. Being around the hut always reminded him of the cottage they used to live in. Now he knew why Kolivan had only been there on the weekends, having to teach and take care of everything at Hogwarts. He absentmindedly touched his shirt, expecting to find his mother’s ring, eyebrows furrowed when he remembered where he’d left it. Kolivan eyed him.

 

‘You’re not wearing it?’

 

‘Left it in the dorm.’

  
They had never talked a lot. But now Keith had to, he’d probably regret it his whole life if he didn’t.  
  
‘I need money, Kolivan.’ Straightforward was what the man in front of him had taught him. Straightforward was what had earned him weeks of detention and black eyes in his first few years. Eventually he’d noticed that normal people couldn’t handle straightforward.  
But with Kolivan it was the easiest way. Sugarcoating was abundant.  
The other only made a small sound to indicate he wanted an explanation.  
  
‘I want to try out for the Gryffindor team, and I need a broom.’, Keith said.  
  
‘It’s October.’  
  
‘I know, I am late, but I need to try. I could be a reserve at least. You know me. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important to me.’ Keith kept his voice low and serious to seem more grave. Kolivan straightened up and looked at him. The watering can in his hand was almost comically large.  
  
‘The school has brooms.’  
  
‘I want to buy a certain one.’  
  
Silence.  
  
Keith never knew how much money he owned. It was all under Kolivan’s management, and he’d only ever spent it on necessary stuff like school supplies or clothes. He’d let Keith earn himself some spending money over the summer holidays, taking care of magical creatures and the school grounds, which he had stored away for more dire times.  
  
‘How much do you need?’ Keith had anticipated the question. It was basically not affordable for him. There wasn’t a universe where his father had owned that kind of money.  
  
’10.000 Galleons.’  
  
He could buy a small apartment for that sum.  
Kolivan looked at him for a moment as if to determine whether he was joking.  
Kolivan didn’t particularly care for jokes.  
  
Without another word he turned around and went into the hut, letting the door fall shut behind him. Keith sighed. He hadn’t expected another outcome to be fair. Also, he hadn’t asked Shiro yet if he would even sell his old broom. He hadn’t wanted to, without knowing if he could even afford it. Which he couldn’t.  
  
A pitiful sound from the opposite corner of the pumpkin field captured his attention and distracted him from his self-pity. A box was rattling there, the material strangely opaque, about three feet in diameter. In it he could see a furry thing moving around slowly. It had a curious color, seemingly changing back and forth from a bright turquoise over navy to a deep black, and almost filled out the complete box. Two big yellow eyes with slits as pupils were staring up at him with a mixture of helplessness and distrust. It must be a cat or fox of some sort. What a weird creature, it was not any he’d seen in his Fantastic Beasts Schoolbook. Maybe Kolivan had it in one of his encyclopedias, many of them handwritten by himself.  
  
He looked at the hut again, where he thought he could see the giant man cook up some sort of stew. It would probably be extremely spicy. Way worse than anything the elves would conjure up in about an hour or two. Kolivan was the worst cook he knew.  
  
He stepped through the door with a resigned sigh, took two porcelain plates out of the cupboard next to the stove and started to set the table. They ate in comfortable silence, like they had done a million times before. Keith was tormented by the burn of the stew way into the night.

 

Fanart by my dear Kashi, who almost made me cry with this ;A;

 


	6. Manus Cruentae

‘I want it back, Pidge.’

 

‘You said, I could have it a week or two.’

 

‘I said DAYS. You’ve had it for three now.’

 

‘Keith. _Buddy_.’ Pidges words sounded as cringy as the smile on his face was sweet. Apparently he was used to coddling up to people.

 

‘We’ve known each other for three years now, I think you could do me a little favor.’

 

‘You’ve never used _buddy_ on me before, why is this ring so important to you?’

 

Pidge’s mouth disappeared into a thin line. _None of your fucking business_ was what it ultimately meant. He stumbled upon those a lot recently. The ring was important to him, but Pidge wasn’t one to be reckless with things he deemed valuable. And he seemed to deem Keith’s ring pretty high on his scale. He should at least try to get some more useful castle intel out of Pidge.

 

‘I want the passwords whenever I need them.’, Keith said, adding a cynical _buddy_.

 

‘You’re pushing your luck, I could just keep this.’ Pidge’s face was rocking between amusement and frustration, holding Keith’s ring up against the light. It was seeping faintly through the purple lines, making them appear pink.

 

‘I could just wrestle you down.’, Keith countered.

 

‘You’re such a crude. And arrogant. I’d hex you before you could even throw a punch, _buddy_.’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘I gotta stop saying that, I’m making myself cringe…’

 

Keith only held out his hand at that, not averting his stare from the smaller boy’s scowling face. Pidge threw up his hands in frustration.

 

‘FINE. As long as I have your ring, you can have the passwords to the passages. But you gotta contact me every time you need one, there isn’t a universal list and they change from time to time. Here!’, he pressed a square piece of parchment into Keith’s outstretched hand that he had pulled out from under a stash of old Daily Prophets and two library volumes whose titles he wasn’t able to decipher.

 

‘Write something on there, and I’ll get the message. Plus, you’ll always know where to find me.’

 

Keith snorted. He’d been searching for Pidge for quite a few hours split over the last two days. The little gremlin always found a secluded spot, never using the same one twice in a row. Over the last three years Keith had discovered most of them, but it was still a gamble if he would be able to find Pidge quickly if he needed him.

 

The parchment didn’t look special at all. It was about 10 centimeters in diameter. He turned it around in his hand when he suddenly saw ink bleeding with controlled swirls unto it. He watched in fascination, until he noticed what kind of body part the lines were actually forming and raised a brow at the other boy.

 

‘Really?’

 

Pidge, who had already turned around, pen still in hand, just made a shooing gesture towards him over his back.

  
  


……………………………………………...

  
  
  


The sun was low as Keith turned into the corridor leading to the Gryffindor tower, his History of Magic books and parchments stuffed into the messenger bag slung over his shoulder. Professor Bob had given them a pretty lengthy homework assignment about Ragnor Fell and his contributions to Alchemy and Apparition. This would mean he could either decide between failing another of the Professor’s horrifying Pop quizzes that he liked to design like bizarre game shows, utterly humiliating any student who made even the smallest mistake, or missing out on the second Quidditch session with Shiro.

 

The decision was easy. Keith had been used to being mocked since first grade, there wasn’t a lot anymore that threw him off nowadays. It had been different in his first years in Hogwarts, when he regularly had to sit through detention and lectures about his disrespectful behaviour towards teachers and other students. Kolivan had repeatedly been called in to speak to his colleagues, which had earned Keith the silent treatment and disappointed stares while he had to shovel double the amount of Thestral dung as retribution. Disappointing Kolivan was depressing, to say the least. And disgusting.

 

But skipping one assignment would usually just get him a scolding while doing a ridiculous task like reciting the 10 oldest wizards known to man while balancing on a chair one legged. Something like that. Maybe Lance would let him copy his homework again. After all he had the key to many doors now he thought, touching Pidge’s parchment in the pocket of his robes. He had important intel to trade to a marauder like Lance who liked to sneak around almost more than Keith did. Even if their motivation differed.

 

Ultimately Keith didn’t like being without his mother’s ring, it had been with him since he could remember, and even if he didn’t believe in the concept of karma or luck, it had made him feel better to find the stone whenever he reached for it. It usually hung on a brown cord of Graphorn leather right beneath his collarbone, hidden by his uniform or shirt. He didn’t need it to survive was what he told himself everytime he reached for the stone, finding nothing where it was hanging around his neck usually.

 

He’d just have to make it worthwhile as long as Pidge had it, take advantage of the younger boy’s knowledge. He had almost reached the portrait of the Fat Lady when she turned around suddenly, her face lit up with glee.

 

‘There you are, _bright-eyes_ , I’ve been waiting for you all day, my dear!’

 

 _Bright-eyes._ He wanted to retch just a little bit. Instead he tried to make his words come out charming. They didn’t.

 

‘Excuse me?’, he said to the painting, taking the last steps towards it slower.

 

‘Oh, I’m sorry dear, but that’s how he described you, you know? He told me your name, but after all the centuries in the castle they all melt together in my head, you can imagine. Oh, the students I’ve seen, you have no idea…’

 

‘Wait, what? Who are you talking about?’ He added a quick _Mylady_ when the woman shot him an annoyed glance for having been interrupted.

 

‘He was looking for a Caleb? Or Heith? I don't remember, see, I already forgot the name. But he described your black ponytail and bright bluish purple eyes and I immediately knew he meant you, dear. Eyes that color are very rare, you know? Haven’t seen those since my third admirer Quincy, he had such beautiful eyes. A shame about his nose though…’

 

Keith had to physically restrain himself from rolling his eyes and bark at the painting to fucking focus. Instead he just closed them, counted backwards from twenty and took a deep breath.

 

‘Could you describe the person looking for me? Was it another student?’

 

‘Of course, it wouldn’t be very appropriate for teachers to describe a student in that manner now, would it?’ She giggled, and a bit of uncomfortable blush colored the top of Keith’s ears.

 

‘He was very tall with a comely face and smartly dressed. Not like the rest of you rascals who don’t care to tuck in your shirts or tie your ties properly.’ The Fat Lady went on and wrinkled her nose as if the hem of his shirt had personally offended her. Keith started to push it into his pants repressing an unnerved groan. This woman had the attention span of a teaspoon.

 

‘That’s better, isn’t it? You almost pass as decent. Where was I?’

 

‘Haircolor. House. Literally any information besides tall and a stuck-up?’

 

The last sentence had escaped him. One could only bear so much frustration, and the Fat Lady had reached his threshold.

 

‘Oh, he is at least double the gentleman you are, boy. The trials I have to endure here.’ She sighed dramatically.

 

‘You have no right to my aid in this matter since you’ve been so rude to me, but for the sake of the lovely Slytherin boy from earlier I will deliver the message. He put it under the rug in front of my painting, so take it and please be on your way. I do not wish to converse with you any longer at this moment.’

 

Keith was already squatting down in excitement and reached under the crimson fibers, feeling for something papery until he found the folded note.

 

_Find me at the greenhouse exit. Bring gloves, it’s cold. Shiro_

 

His heart leaped. They had initially planned to meet at the Quidditch field. He bit his lip. Screw Ragnor Fell and whatever accomplishments he had bettered the wizarding world with, right now the idea of being contained within stone walls researching some old geezer seemed completely incomprehensible to his brain. _Gloves_ was the only thing he thought of when he eyed the woman in the painting again who purposely ignored him at this point. His ones were up in the tower. He was weighing his possibilities, contemplating if he could fake more slimy niceties without retching on and ruining the rug before him. He probably couldn’t.

 

How cold could it actually be?

  
  


……………………………………………………………….

  
  


It was fucking freezing. If the adrenaline rush from speeding over Hogwarts grounds, evading young fir trees at the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest hadn’t made him partially unfazed by pain and discomfort he might have thought of yielding. He didn’t though, the stakes were to high.

 

Shiro had greeted him at the greenhouses, green and silver scarf thrown around his neck, two brooms in hand and a big smile on his face.

 

‘I almost thought you’d bailed on me.’, he had said jokingly.

 

‘I wouldn’t.’, Keith had answered.

 

Shiro had only looked back with an expression on his face that had mirrored Keith’s excitement, seeing the brooms the Slytherin had brought. The other had noticed his stare of course.

 

‘One condition!’, Shiro had said. ‘You can use _Red_ , as you lovingly call him, if you beat me in a race down to the Quidditch field. If you lose, you have to train with one of the lame Hogwarts brooms. Deal?’

 

A thousand things had shot through Keith’s brain at once.

 

_This is against the house rules._

_Kolivan is gonna see._

_The Hogwarts brooms suck._

 

He only said one thing out loud.

 

‘Her. Red’s a she.’

 

Flying her now, he could still hear Shiro’s excited response in his ears as the wind rushed by him, blocking out most external noise.

 

 _Just as Black_.

 

Shiro was incredibly good. He wasn’t just fast or agile, it seemed like he’d anticipate every obstacle or upcurrent and reacted instinctively to it. Red was wonderful, she almost guided him through the little patch of trees they were cutting through, following his directions when he merely thought of them. But he wasn’t able to get in front of Shiro. Everytime he caught up and thought he might have gotten him, Shiro pulled another breakneck maneuver Keith could barely mimic without crashing into an unfortunate tree or rock.

 

The sun was almost gone, painting the sky a fiery orange while the grounds were swallowed by an icy, blue tint. Shiro was directing his broom away from the forest, piloting it towards a giant, old willow growing a few hundred meters away. Its leaves had turned dark and dry, most of them already on the ground beneath. Keith’s lips mouthed an incredulous _NO,_ that was instantly swallowed by the wind around him. That guy was one reckless bastard. He wouldn’t have thought. Too bad Keith had been born reckless. He leaned forward to make Red go faster and could almost feel a ripple of anticipation go through the broom.

 

The tree came closer, shaking its long branches expectantly, and then the first tendril made an excruciating sound as it whipped through the air next to him. Shiro had dived to the right and was already weaving Black through the scurry of bark and browned leaves. Keith avoided two of the smaller branches with little movements left and right and the next second dropped Red three feet to dodge one of the main arms aiming for him with more speed than he had expected. Distracted by the brief shock of barely having evaded the bigger arm, a thin one almost swept him off. He dove left at the last moment, but the end of the tendril grazed his unprotected right hand, dragging its rough surface over Keith’s fingers, taking skin and flesh with it.

 

He had no time to mourn the scar it would probably turn into or focus on the sting muffled by the freezing air, instead dragging Red to the right again and diving under and over the last of the Weeping Willow’s attacks. Shiro had become a small spot in front of him. The thing he regretted more than his ripped up fingers or training on a sucky broom was the fact that he hadn’t been able to watch Shiro work his way through the trees whipping branches.

 

When he landed next to him at the edge of the Quidditch field he was trembling slightly.

 

‘That was fucking amazing!’, was all he could say, heart pounding, pupils dilated. Shiro laughed, the sound making him feel even happier than the rush of danger and speed had. Damn, he was _happy_. Keith couldn’t help but grin stupidly himself. Shiro beamed.

 

‘You held up pretty well, color me impressed! Who taught you how to fly like that?’    

 

He must’ve seen Keith’s face drop because he didn’t push any further. Bless tactful people, for Keith had never been one.

 

‘Sorry I made us go through that demonridden tree.’, he said, scratching the back of his neck as if he felt sorry for it. Keith guessed the gesture was a polite cover.

 

‘Liar.’, he said with a challenging look. ‘I was just getting too close for your taste.’

 

A wicked expression flashed over the Slytherin’s eyes.

 

‘Getting cocky, aren’t we? Well, you better go and get your lame MERLIN’S BEARD KEITH!’

 

Keith looked up in confusion. He had just wiped his sweaty bangs out of his eyes, only now noticing the sting of his fingers demanding attention. The skin looked as if someone had decided to put it through a blender, and little by little the pain managed to seep through to his brain.

 

‘Damn.’, he cursed under his breath, hissing and searching his pockets clumsily for his wand with his unhurt left hand. Shiro in the meantime was staring wide eyed at his face, where he’d apparently just wiped a considerable amount of blood onto. He suddenly looked miserable, pale, eyes darting back and forth between Keith’s and his hand, lips pressed into a thin line.

 

‘Look, it’s not that bad, I just need my wand and I’ll be fine!’, Keith said, groping at his pockets. Why was he the one comforting the other? Shiro seemed to snap out of it at that, took off his gloves, pulled out his own wand and reached for Keith’s injured hand. He hovered a few centimeters under it, hesitating.

 

‘I’m… Keith. Please… may I fix this?’, he asked, head bowed down lightly towards his hand, looking up with wide eyes and furrowed brows. Keith almost got the feeling that the other was in more pain than he was. People always got so dramatic over a little blood. Still, he nodded. His own healing spells usually left hideous scars anyway, and he didn’t feel like going all the way back to the infirmary for something minor like this. Shiro’s skin felt rough against his palm as he brought both their hands closer to his face and murmured _consertus_.

 

Keith hissed again, a little louder this time, as it started to sting aggressively and Shiro shot him a brief apologetic glance. They watched the layers of tissue and a few nerves weaving back into each other until all that was left were patches of angry red skin. Shiro straightened, not letting go of Keith’s hand. Instead he pocketed his wand and took the Gryffindor’s other one as well. He pressed both of Keith’s hands between his own, the warmth being almost too much. Almost.

 

‘I… I don’t know what came over me. I’m so sorry. I should have noticed you didn’t have gloves on. I shouldn’t have made you race me. Especially not through that tree. It was immature and reckless and…’

 

‘It was amazing.’, Keith interrupted him. Not primarily to make the other feel better, but because it was the simple truth. What were a few scratches compared to what they had just done. He felt alive while flying like that, as if following a purpose, even if it was a mundane one.

 

‘Don’t be sorry for racing me. I’d do it again if you asked me right now. No regrets.’

 

Shiro looked a little baffled at that. He sighed.

 

‘I’m supposed to be a model student, a good example. In addition to making you break the rules I caused you getting injured. Even if you don’t, at least _I_ should feel regret.’

 

‘Do you?’

 

Keith dreaded the answer a little. Shiro might just decide that it was too dangerous for them to train after all, and he didn’t know what he’d do then. He had licked blood, riding Red and training with the Slytherin in front of him, his hands still encased in comfortable warmth. They felt a lot smaller than usual.

 

Shiro was still thinking about his answer.

 

‘I know I should feel remorse. I endangered a student I was responsible for.’ Keith snorted at that, but Shiro didn’t look away.

 

‘I regret you getting hurt, Keith. I really do.’ Keith had to sneer internally. There was an unspoken _but_ following that sentence. When Shiro didn’t voice his concerns further, he decided to speak up.

 

‘People might like you even more if you showed them that you aren’t perfect.’, he said blunt as always.

 

‘Ouch. But my impenetrable facade.’

 

He feigned a hurt expression.

 

‘You’re a real dork.’, Keith said out loud before he could think more about it. Shiro’s eyebrows shot up. Had he crossed a line?

 

‘Sorry,’, he said, ‘I didn’t mean…’, but the Slytherin interrupted him with a grin.

 

‘It’s okay. People always say you only become friends when you start teasing each other.’ He winked at him. Keith’s face was already bloody and raw from the wind, so the color didn’t intensify visibly. He still felt the heat creep back into his face, and pulled his hands out of the others a little too quickly for his new skin. People always said that?

 

‘Alright, I’m sorry!’, Shiro laughed, raising his own hands apologetically in front of him. ‘Listen, I know I said you had to take the Hogwarts brooms if you lost. How about I still let you train on Red today as an apology for the hand. And the teasing.’

 

Keith’s embarrassment instantly shifted. Every evening with Shiro had been like this,  a rollercoaster ride of emotions. Today was no different. Red was still tucked under his left arm, he could feel eagerness radiating from her. He had to be crazy. Keith caught Shiro’s eyes on him, still waiting for an answer.

 

‘I accept.’, he said. ‘This time.’

 

‘You are way cockier than I’d have thought.’ Shiro laughed, putting on his gloves again.

 

‘Should have seen me a few years ago. I am basically tame at this point.’ Keith countered, taking Red in his right. He watched as a delighted Shiro took out his wand again, pointing it at his face. Startled he froze mid-movement.

 

‘Relax! I just can’t take you seriously when you look like you devoured some poor creature alive. Let me clean it up for you?’

 

‘I could just wash my face.’, Keith mumbled, but nodded his consent.

 

_Tergeo._


	7. Clara Oculos

The days were starting later and ending sooner, as expected of late october. He woke up at sunrise, after someone in the room had thrown a pillow after him. Keith still used the alarm of his phone, and usually startled at the first buzz. That day, apparently, he had slept through the first five minutes of it, judging from the complaints and cushions his dorm mates threw at him.

 

They had returned late, as always. Shiro had dominated him during the training, being faster, stronger and more agile, and stunning Keith with every new move he showed him. Keith was raw and unpolished. He had instincts though. And he was fearless. At the end of their training session he had managed to execute the _Wronski Feint_ , a steep dive to confuse the other team’s Seeker, even down to three feet above ground. He was determined to make that one foot. Shiro had laughed at his stubbornness.

 

‘I’ll treat you to dinner, if you ever make it to one foot, _Cherrybomb_.’, he’d said with a grin. Keith had frowned at the nickname. Just for a moment though, because the adrenaline high combined with Shiro’s stupidly infectious laugh had made him chime in with a snort.

 

‘Stop calling me that!’, he had said, not able to will the corners of his mouth back down.

 

‘Or what?’, the Slytherin had asked, nudging him in the side playfully.

 

He hadn’t had any reply besides saying a silent _Dork_ , head lowered and hands clutching Red harder than necessary.

  
  


…………………………………………

  
  
  


‘How do you get away with always staying out after curfew?’

 

‘Being the Golden Boy has a few perks, you know?’ Shiro looked at him from the side with a self-sufficient smile. They were heading back from the Quidditch field, little spheres of light they had conjured up dancing a few feet in front of them illuminating the nightly Hogwarts grounds. This time they purposely avoided the Weeping Willow, Keith still feeling the burn on the top of his fingers. He looked down uncomfortably.

 

‘I never called you Golden Boy…’, he said.

 

‘A lot of people do. I don’t really care, in the end I worked for what I got.’ He didn’t say it in an arrogant way, weirdly. Other people might’ve come off as overly confident, but Shiro just stated it as a matter of fact.

 

‘Some say it sarcastically…’, Keith started. He’d never really given a damn about the gossip but lately it bothered him when he heard someone diminishing Shiro’s accomplishments. Some people urgently needed hobbies.

 

‘I know. But as I said. I know what I did to get where I am, so it’s okay.’ He smiled at Keith and let his sphere do some cryptic movements.

 

‘What did I write?’, the Slytherin asked him.

 

‘Huh?’, Keith had been in thought again. Shiro just nudged his head towards the sphere again and repeated the movements.

 

‘C-H-E-R-R-Y… haha, very funny. I told you to stop calling me that.’ Keith didn’t know if he should feel unnerved or flustered. Maybe both. Sure. Why not both. Shiro couldn’t be put off that easily apparently, because he still flashed Keith that stupidly happy grin of his. The Gryffindor put on a determined face and made a gesture to the sphere himself now. Shiro followed, trying to decipher the movements.

 

‘B-R-I-G-H-T-E-Y-E-S...oh.’ His cheeks turned darker. Keith wasn’t able to make out colors in the pale light of their wavering spells, but the deepening tone indicated he’d succeeded. It was time for Shiro to be uncomfortable for a change.

 

‘The fat lady ratted me out I guess?’ He let out an embarrassed sigh, the hand not holding his wand now scratching at the base of his undercut. ‘I didn’t know how to find you. Plus, she had no idea who Keith is. That woman honestly is a piece of work.’

 

‘You stole her heart, the way you’re so proper and smartly dressed, a real gentleman.’, Keith teased with grin.

 

‘Good thing she doesn’t remember names then!’, Shiro said, growing a bit sheepish again.

 

‘Look, I tried to describe you, the only thing that stuck with her were your eyes apparently. Sorry if it sounded cheesy.’  He didn’t sound sorry, and Keith didn’t mind. They had come to a halt, standing in the entrance hall, dimming their spheres with a murmured _nox_. The candles from the Great Hall flickered as they turned towards each other, cheeks and noses blushed with the overwhelming warmth of the castle.

 

‘See you at the Slytherin training as always, I assume?’, Shiro teased, walking backwards towards the door leading to the dungeons.

 

Keith managed a cocky _As always_ , before the door closed after bared teeth and silver hair. Of course he would go to the Slytherin training. Even more than ever. The evening had flown by in a blur and he felt… content. And hungry. The flying he had secretly managed to do in clearings of the Forbidden Forest had been a silent wheeze in the wind compared to what Shiro had made him do the last two training sessions. He’d be sore the next morning, but already he could feel the improvement he had made since last time. His stomach rumbled.

 

Keith forcefully willed the corners of his monuth down and absentmindedly started massaging his cheeks. They must feel tense from the cold air. He could try to sneak into the kitchen. Still standing in the middle of the entrance hall, squishing his face between his hands he let his eyes wander around the room wondering if it had always looked that welcoming. He had been staring into a pair of icy blue eyes for a few seconds until he noticed they were actively looking back. Damn. He’d forgotten about Dumbledore. The old wizard was watching him over the golden rim of his crescent shaped glasses with an unreadable expression.

 

‘Good evening, Sir.’, Keith said hesitantly.

 

Dumbledore’s mouth twitched wickedly.

 

‘Good it is indeed, whereas I’d rather call it night than evening, wouldn’t you agree, Mister Kogane?’

 

‘I have a permit this time, Sir!’, Keith said a little too eagerly.

 

‘Oh, I’m sure you do.This time.’ He winked at him. ‘Good night, Mister Kogane.’

 

‘Good night, Sir.’, Keith answered, his initial plans to steal some midnight snack from the kitchens fading. The staircase to the dungeons was pretty much opposite of Dumbledore’s painting. His stomach rumbled in defeated complaint. He had already started towards the Grand Staircase when the old wizard spoke again.

 

‘Minerva, wouldn’t you agree that one should never go to sleep on an empty stomach, especially after strenuous exercise?’

 

The painting Dumbledore was addressing only showed a grey tabby cat currently rolled into a ball in its velvet bed. It let out an exhausted _mew_ and turned its behind a little more towards the former headmaster, who chuckled and leaned back in his frame. Sometimes Keith got the impression that Dumbledore had already instigated more rule-breaking than he had prevented that year. He tried to make a thanking gesture towards the old wizard, but he was already asleep again. Keith headed down the stairs towards the kitchen. With a little luck he could steal a banana or two before a house elf noticed him, making every bit of food within his reach disappear in an instant. Again. _Damn that pineapple_ he thought.

  
  


……………………………………………………………..

  
  
  


He was at the door to the kitchens, reaching for the handle when it was pushed open suddenly. Not having anticipated someone exiting Keith barely avoided a broken nose flinching back. The heavy oak wood connected with his shoulder and sent him stumbling back a few steps, landing painfully on his bum.

 

‘Oh my! I am so sorry, man, are you okay?’

 

Balancing a tray full of baked goods and fruit, the guy that had almost smashed in his face couldn’t look less menacing. He had a square but kind of squishy face, dark hair in a cut that reminded him of 90ies Boy Bands and dark puppy eyes. Although he was on the larger side, he easily pushed the heavy door closed with a foot and grabbed Keith to holster him up to his feet. That guy was strong. And instantly he remembered where he had seen him before.

 

‘You’re number 05 on the Hufflepuff Team! _The Beater of hell!’_ , Keith gasped. He hadn’t remembered the other’s name, but definitely his performance. The guy had made the team only that year, but he came close to Shiro when it came to Quidditch. Being significantly slower than the Slytherin he made up for it in brutal strength and precision. The other eyed him curiously.

 

‘Uhm. Yeah, and you’re Keith. We have, like, five or six courses together? To be honest, I am a little heartbroken, do you even know my name?`

 

He didn’t. Keith felt cornered. Eyes darting between the Hufflepuff, the kitchen door and his way back his stomach reminded him once again why he had come down there in the first place. The other must have heard it too, at this point it was almost too loud to ignore.

 

‘Uff, my heart is broken. I’m Hunk. You may call me _The Beater of Hell_ if you want though, has a certain ring to it!’, he said grinning, picking a scone from his tray and holding it towards Keith. He wanted to hesitate, but his arm had developed a mind of its own and grabbed the pastry. It was probably more forceful than he should have, when he saw the surprised expression in the other’s eyes.

 

‘Sorry, I…’ He didn’t know what to say. Damn, talking had been too easy with Shiro, he had gotten too used to him.

 

‘Hungry. I understand, no worries. My girlfriend always turns into a _Streeler_ when left with low blood sugar. Help yourself, there’s no way in hell we can eat all of that by ourselves!’, Hunk said with a chuckle and held the tray closer to his face. Keith was baffled. This guy was too nice to be true. Plus…

 

‘How many people get that _Streeler_ reference?’, he asked the Hufflepuff.

 

Hunk laughed. ‘Not a lot. With you, two so far.’ He chuckled at his own self-deprecating joke.

 

Keith raised his eyebrows, taking another scone and a few bananas for good measure. _Streelers_ were giant African snails that leaked flammable venom. Usually it was not an animal people knew. Or compared their girlfriends to.

 

‘Well, it was nice talking to you Keith, but I gotta get back to my dearly beloved. See you on Monday I guess. DDA, right?’, Hunk said a little unsure. People got like that around Keith. Probably because he didn’t give them much to react to.

 

‘Thanks, Hunk.’, he tried. Smiling felt forced, but he held up one of the bananas as a thankful gesture. It was a start. Hunk rewarded him with a huge smile.

 

‘No biggie! G’night!’, he said walking towards a stack of barrels, the tray swaying dangerously on his right hand while he was waving with the other. He turned around behind the barrels and then he was gone.

 

Keith stood there a little longer, staring at the point where the other had vanished. He had to explore the Hufflepuff common rooms in the next summer holidays, how had he never been there? Another rumbling growl reminded him of his stomach’s state, so he headed back up the stairs, already stuffing one of the scones into his mouth.

 

They were filled with cherry jam.

  
  


………………………………………………………………..

  
  
  


His back felt sore. Not wanting to spend the breakfast with other people talking to him he had left his groaning and complaining dorm mates behind to grab a piece of toast. No pumpkin juice this time. Coffee maybe. He was used to not sleeping a lot, but the whole situation changed when you did an intense workout session before getting a rough five hours in. Yes, definitely coffee.

 

The first few owls were already delivering letters, parcels and the Daily Prophet when he sat down to reach for the bread. It was Saturday, and as expected not many people were up at that early, so he had the Gryffindor table mostly to himself. A distinct _hoo_ announced the Barn-owl that usually brought him his copy of the newspaper. He caught it mid fall and threw it a piece of his toast that the bird snatched while returning through one of the windows under the ceiling. It was depicting the dawning sky, pink and cyan with fluffy clouds strewn about. The weather promised to be sunny for a change, and he welcomed the last warm days before winter finally found its way into Scotland.

 

_Auror missing - Muggleborn conspiracy confirmed?_

 

Another attack apparently. Keith scanned over the article. He wished someone would address this rumor in class. Although many of his fellow students liked to spin as many theories as the newspaper, none of it mattered until there was some solid proof. He trusted Kolivan to communicate any important information, given there even was any. Still, since he was a muggleborn himself he was curious. Not worried, but curious. He flicked through to his favourite page.

 

_Location of Quidditch Junior League Preliminaries official_

 

They were looking for a new team. This was a once in a lifetime chance, but to participate you had to have your own, whole crew. Keith sighed. He absentmindedly touched the spot below his collarbone and was reminded that Pidge still had his ring. He took the parchment out of his pocket and a fountain pen from his messenger bag. Most students nowadays used them, except for a few old fashioned ones and some history geeks that still used ink and quill.

 

_When can I have my ring back?_

 

The ink seemed to seep deeper and deeper into the parchment until it had disappeared completely. The answer came faster than anticipated.

 

_Not yet._

 

He hadn’t expected anything else. The parchment was pretty neat though, it reminded him of text messaging when he had been smaller. His father had usually sent him short messages when he’d had night shifts to read in the morning.

 

A body suddenly slumped heavily onto the bench next to him, startling Keith out of his train of thought. He quickly stuffed parchment and fountain pen into his hoodie. His head sideways on the table, almost dunked into a bowl of porridge, Lance was staring right through him with empty eyes. They were encircled by purplish dark rings and rimmed red. Either the other one had been possessed by the ugliest spirit in existence or he hadn’t slept in a week. No matter which of the above, Keith didn’t want to deal with it. Again.

 

He was already standing up, the rest of his toast stuffed into his mouth, when he was stopped by a hand on his sleeve. He turned his head in slow motion, dreading the other boys stare. It was like he had creeped right out of a teenie horror flick.

 

‘Keeeeeeeith…’, he winced.

 

‘Let go.’ Keith said without sympathy.

 

‘She dumped meeeee.’

 

Keith tried shaking his arm, but Lance’s grip was like steel, his arm flailing around with Keith’s efforts. Yanking at the other’s wrist had the same effect, namely none. He contemplated hexing the other Gryffindor, but there were too many teachers present already. Thinking back, he didn’t remember seeing Lance in the dorm that morning. He must’ve been out all night, fighting over whatever girl he had been wooing and failing horribly.

 

They looked like a pair out of a cartoon. Keith standing next to the table groaning, head hung back in defeat, shoulders hunched, and Lance gripping onto his sleeve with his head on the table, other arm hanging down like dead meat. Avoiding this was exactly the reason he always went to breakfast early.

 

‘What do you want, Lance?’, he growled with an annoyed undertone.

 

‘I don’t knooow…’, Lance whined, tugging more at Keith’s sleeve which started to slip over his hand.

 

He looked around the Great Hall, most students were either too tired to pay attention or just couldn’t care less. All except two piercing grey eyes under a tuft of fair hair way over at the Slytherin table. He was sitting next to two other 8th years, a tall and beautiful girl with long, bright silver curls in a high ponytail, and a guy with slicked back, white blonde hair. Both had surprisingly dark skin contrasting it.

 

Keith flinched a little when he noticed Shiro watching him. The Slytherin looked amusedly down at Lance and then up again, a question in his eyes. Keith shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what to do next. Shiro apparently did, he excused himself from the other two and started walking over to him. Their eyes curiously followed him.

 

‘Morning.’, he greeted with a lazy smile,’What happened to him?’

 

Keith sighed.

 

‘Got dumped. Now he won’t let go.’

 

Shiro snickered in sympathy and put his hand on Lance’s back.

 

‘Hey, there, uhm…’

 

‘Lance.’, Keith helped.

 

‘Hey, there, Lance. I’m sorry, but I need to borrow your friend Keith for a moment. A professor wants to speak to him urgently.’

 

What a blatant lie. He watched Shiro talk to Lance while flashing Keith a sly look. Shameless. Lance whimpered.

 

‘No one likes me anymore. I’ll die alone in a pit with my fifteen cats eating off my face.’, He started sobbing silently.

 

‘The first part might be true…’, Keith murmured, which got him a playful side blow to his arm. He was startled at first, until he comprehended why Shiro had hit him.

 

_That’s what friends do._

 

Huh. He felt a little fuzzy in his stomach. The Slytherin in the meantime had been petting Lance on the back gently while pulling individual fingers from Keith’s sleeve. When he was undoing Lance’s pinky, Rollo and Nyma, two other Gryffindors, came entering the hall for breakfast, immediately rolling their eyes as they noticed the public display of shame their friend exhibited. Shiro seemed relieved that he didn’t have to keep Lance from committing suicide in the porridge bowl. For all Keith cared he could drown himself in it.

 

‘Let’s go!’, Shiro muttered and gently pushed Keith, who was completely startled by the instruction. They were leaving the sobbing mess of brown hair and crumpled robes for Rollo and Nyma, who Shiro shot an apologetic glance, to take care of. Keith noticed a few familiar Ravenclaws eyeing them while they marched out between the long tables, and especially the rest of Shiro’s bright-hair-club was staring intently. Shiro’s hand pushing on the small of his back was uncomfortable. As soon as they were in the Entrance Hall Keith turned around to tell Shiro off.

 

Or at least he tried. He looked into a face that was half worried, half happy, and couldn’t bring himself to say something too harsh. So he stood there, his mouth half open, looking for a way to get some distance without being too rude.

 

‘I’m sorry!’, Shiro said. ‘I came on too strong I guess?’

 

He looked like he meant it. Keith swallowed and nodded slightly, his mouth still half open in surprise.

 

‘You looked so… uhm… like a lost animal that doesn’t know what to do… I wanted to help.’, he explained, scratching the nape of his neck. There it was again, that gesture. It was kind of endearing.

 

‘An animal would’ve bitten off the hand.’, Keith said dryly, hands propped up against his hip, one eyebrow raised at Shiro.

 

‘But thanks.’

 

Shiro beamed at him. Swallowing down his social insecurities was sometimes worth it. He smiled back, genuinely this time.

 

‘Keith. You probably didn’t believe me just now, but there actually is a professor that wants to see you.’

 


	8. Lupus Rapid

They were walking out through the greenhouses again, without brooms this time. The morning air was crisp and even though warmer weather was on the horizon the lingering cold of the night still turned their breath into mist. White frost was melting slowly in the last shadowy pits of the grounds and crunched under their feet as they walked over it. Even though it was the weekend Shiro was still wearing his uniform, neatly pressed and tucked in. _Proper_ had the Fat Lady called him. She had no idea.

 

‘I bet you thought I was lying back there.’, Shiro teased.

 

‘Honestly, I did. Which professor wants to see me?’, Keith asked.

 

‘I told you, you’ll see when you get there…’

 

Keith had a bad feeling in his stomach. They were heading towards the Quidditch field. He liked Shiro, but if he had arranged a surprise chat with Professor Hira he’d have to reconsider their friendship. Mentorship. Whatever it was they were. To his surprise they didn’t follow the trail to the field but took a turn at Kolivan’s hut. Keith’s face must’ve looked as confused as he felt, because Shiro’s hand landed on his shoulder reassuringly.

 

‘Stop frowning, it’s nothing bad, I promise.’, Shiro said, ‘I initially wanted to catch you later in the day, but the opportunity was perfect. Plus, your face when your friend wouldn’t let go of you was gold. The embodiment of irritaton.’ His other hand made a dramatic gesture.

 

‘He isn’t my friend.’, was all Keith answered, shrugging off Shiro’s hand. Again, the Slytherin couldn’t be disheartened, because he continued his conversation unfazed by Keith’s stern expression. It was nice. He was used to people pulling away after two or three times of him rejecting their advances. Shiro somehow didn’t seem to mind. He usually just took a step back and gave him space. Keith’s mouth twitched upwards amusedly as he listened to Shiro recount a story about Lance at their first match. It had been the third one of the season, and the Gryffindor had tried to distract the Slytherin’s Seeker with horribly cheesy pick up lines, which in the end caused him to get hauled off his broom by her girlfriend’s Bludger. Twice.

 

They had almost reached Kolivan’s hut, when something flashed before his eyes in a blidingly bright turquise, throwing him onto his back as Shiro let out a small gasp. He was pressed to the ground by something heavy and furry, damp hot breath fanning over his face.

 

He only heard Kolivan’s voice shout a loud _NO_ before the creature struck.

  
  


……………………………………….

  
  
  


They were sitting around Kolivan’s heavy table in the middle of the bigger of the hut’s rooms. Keith was scrubbing his face with a wet towel. After the initial scare he had found his face being licked by the biggest puppy he had ever seen. It wasn’t as huge as he initially had thought, spanning a meter in length and about half as much from paw to shoulder. It was incredibly furry and squirmish, trying to escape Kolivan’s firm grip as he reattached the collar the pup had escaped from.

 

‘Trying to train him.’, he had explained after shouting at Shiro, who had been about to hex the beast off of Keith. Keith had only been giggling helplessly at that point because he wasn’t able to get away from the slobbering tongue trying to drench his ears in drool. From a distance and on a shimmering leash the beast didn’t look dangerous at all. He recognized it as the one he had found in the translucent box a few days earlier.

 

‘It’s a space wolf.’, Kolivan explained.

 

‘I thought so already. You could’ve warned me that you had one of those.’, Keith was still amused.

 

‘I didn’t think it would get away so easily. The collar was a little too big.’

 

‘Yeah, it looks huge with all that fur. Bet it looks like a little rat under all the hair.

 

The wolf gave a soft _awoo_ at that, wanting to move around. Shiro was watching the conversation between them with a fascinated lookin his eyes, looking completely out of place in the rustical hut between Keith in his ripped jeans and hoodie, and Kolivan looking like a hermit with his woolen poncho and leather pants. He was a little stiff while he tried to take everything in, never having been invited into the teacher’s home.

 

‘Professor, I was surprised when you told me you knew Keith. You two seem very close.’, he stated to break the silence that was building up.

 

Kolivan looked at him, as if he had only just noticed him being in the room with them. Keith decided to answer since the other had already redirected his attention to the wolf pup.

 

‘He’s my guardian.’

 

Uncomfortable silence fell over the hut, except for clinks and scratches as the wolf tried to roam around the floor and find anything palatable. When it squeezed itself under his chair, Keith reached for its head and scratched it behind the ears. It’s ouppy coat was already changing from a soft and fluffy wool into long silky hair. It was weird how tame the animal was. He was rewarded for the scratches with another lick over his hand. Good thing he still had the towel.

 

‘Uhm… what is a space wolf exactly?’, Shiro tried to break the silence, still processing their kinship.

 

‘They’re incredibly rare…’, Kolivan and Keith said at the same time, with the same intonation, which made them look at each other in surprise and Shiro could barely suppress a laugh. Keith leaned back in his chair, now knowing what to feel, so Kolivan took the lead this time.

 

‘They came from Siberia, but nowadays are spotted in the colder regions of northern Europe and Asia. It’s hard to catch them because of their ability to teleport. They grow very fast during their first three months and glow in the dark to attract people lost in the woods. Usually they don’t get close to humans unless they want to hunt. This one must have been born in captivity and escaped.’

 

Shiro still looked lost in the giant hut, amidst cluttered countertops and unmatching tableware. Kolivan wasn’t one to neatly assort his belongings, and although it never was dirty or dusty, organized chaos seemed to dominate the interior. It was everything but proper. Keith watched him take everything in, fascinated as he noticed the subtle changes on the Slytherins face everytime he discovered a new item.

 

No one had said anything in a few minutes now which wasn’t new to Keith. Sometimes he’d spend days with Kolivan, only speaking a word or two. Shiro obviously wasn’t used to it and he grew restless next to him.

 

‘How about tea?’, Keith asked into the room, getting up to boil water.

 

‘That would be great!’, Shiro exhaled with relief. ‘Do you have green tea?’

 

Keith grinned at his flinch when Kolivan bluntly said ‘Black tea only.’

 

When he returned with three cups of the steaming brew there was a cardboard box on the table with a folded piece of parchment. He almost dropped the cups. With eyes wide open he looked up at Shiro, who flashed him a happy smile and Kolivan, who looked, well, as always.

 

‘What is this?’, Keith asked, putting the other’s mugs on the table, holding onto his one, not sitting down yet.

 

‘Happy Birthday, boy.’, Kolivan said almost without emotion, pushing the box towards him. Keith could hear the subtle affection in it, and got even stiffer. Why was Shiro here in this situation. He didn’t want to look at him, awkwardly reaching for the box. In it was a misshapen muffin with purple frosting saying _HEITH._

 

‘Thanks.’, Keith said, closing the box without taking a bite. He was almost certain it would taste spicy. He could already smell too much cinnamon and ginger. A giant hand was carfully pushing the parchment closer to his field of vision. Keith hesitantyl opened it and read through the note. This time he acually dropped the cup. It didn’t break, but still splattered their feet and the floor with hot tea.

 

‘ _Arida!_ ’, two voices called, this time belonging to Kolivan and Shiro who already had their wands out, performing little complicated swirls to dry off the spilled fluid.

 

‘Alright, let’s spill the tea again!’, Shiro said in a horrible attempt to lighten the mood. Kolivan ignored him while Keith stared back at him, an incredulous look on his eyes. None of them were smiling back.

 

‘Are you serious?’, was all he could say. ‘It’s too much! Kolivan!’

 

The professor ignored him, getting up to keep the pup from choking down one of his huge leather slippers.

 

‘Keith.’ He looked back at Shiro. Against the light coming in from the window his frame was surrounded with an eerie glow that didn’t help the situation. It just made it seem more unreal.

 

_Happy Birthday, Keith! Kolivan talked to me about Red, and we want you to use her for your trainings and the tryouts. That’s why I decided to lend her to you for as long as you need her. Go and be great._

 

Under the note a little inked scribble of a broom was moving around playfully. His eyes darted back and forth between the parchment, Shiro and Kolivan, not wanting to focus on either for too long.

 

‘I can’t accept this.’, he finally said.

 

‘I told you.’ Kolivan eyed Shiro from where he was still wrestling the shredded slipper from the wolf’s jaw. Keith was overwhelmed. He wanted Red so bad. But it was an incredibly expensive broom, not to mention he might scratch or even damage it during a match. Also he didn’t want to feel indebted to Shiro that way. It was only a loan, but still. Shiro sighed in defeat.

 

‘Okay, look. I can understand why it might seem much to you, but my reasons are entirely selfish. I really want to compete against you. You are the first one in a while that might get dangerous for me, and it is incredibly exciting.’, he said with a feverish glow to his eyes. The kind of glow he always got when he was training with Keith. The one regular students might not even know, he thought, sheepishly. Still he hesitated.

 

Shiro groaned. It was the first time Keith had heard that sound out of him, and it should’ve frustrated him. Instead his mood lightened a little. What a weird thing emotions were.

 

‘Shirogane won’t take money.’, Kolivan stated as a matter of fact. Keith had anticipated as much. There had to be something he could do though. He REALLY wanted to fly Red.

 

‘Look. There’s a course I’m having difficulties with. I know that you’re a year under me and that the topics are more intricate, but maybe you could help me studying?’

 

Keith blinked. Help Shiro study. As a person who didn’t like to be inside too much the proposition sounded bothersome. But spending time with Shiro was fun at least. It could have been worse. In the end he wouldn’t feel like he owed Shiro too much, even if it was a hassle. Both would more or less get their way. He looked up, only now noticing that he was still standing in the middle of the room.

 

‘Do you have any firewhisky?’, he asked Kolivan, who only drew a few swirls into the air with his wand, making a hanging cabinet open up and revealing three little cups, each dancing through the air over to the respective people in the room. A silver flask engraved with cryptic patterns and runes was pouring a honey colored liquid into each of them mid air. Keith downed his the second it touched his fingers, the burning sensation of the alcohol drowning his anxiety a little and warming his stomach. Kolivan followed Keith’s example. Only Shiro’s was still full, held up in the middle of a toasting gesture.

 

‘Cheers I guess?’, he laughed. Then looked over at him with a warm smile. ‘To you. Happy Birthday!’

 

The Gryffindor’s mood lifted when Shiro’s eyes grew wide and teary as he started coughing pathetically from the sting of the whisky. Keith caught the flask that was on its way back to the cabinet mid air and poured himself another.

 

What an emotional rollercoaster.

 


	9. Calva Capillum Album

‘Potions! PIDGE!’

 

‘Stop screaming at me, I heard you the first time.’

 

It was the day after his birthday, and Keith had found the boy in a room towering the owlery, tucked into a hidden closet with a funny looking apparatus and a heap of parchments and books. Originally he had wanted to ask Pidge about his mother’s ring, but the anxious state that hadn’t left him since the previous afternoon had pushed the ring into the back of his mind.

 

Shiro had taken him to the Quidditch field after tea and fire whisky, making awful jokes about drunk-driving on brooms. Keith had found out Shiro was a muggleborn as well, and that he didn’t like to talk about his parents. So they hadn’t. What they had talked about though had been the subject Shiro had been wanting help with.

 

‘I don’t have a clue about potions.’

 

‘Why the hell are you coming to me about this? Since when am I your personal councellor?’, Pidge asked him, rolling his eyes.

 

‘You are good at potions, aren’t you?’, Keith replied leaning against the window frame, staring down at the owls leaving and arriving at the wooden construction below them. He had run out of ideas, leaving Pidge his only resource of support. At least that was what he had thought.

 

‘I’m good at every subject. Still not an answer. I’m not going to become your agony aunt just because you’ve started puberty three years late.’

 

Keith threw his arms up in the air in frustration.

 

‘You asked why and I told you. You want my ring? Then you’re helping me.’

 

He tried to make his voice sound similar to Kolivan’s when he was stating something that wasn’t up for discussion. Which was basically always. Pidge just glared at him from a foot below him. His eyes were darting back and forth between Keith’s, calcuating if the effort was worth it. Then he turned around, ripped off a piece of parchment from his stack and scribbled something on it.

 

‘You want to get these books from the library, they are basically cheat sheets for most advanced potion brewing and conversion problems. And take this!’

 

He shoved an old and ragged edition of a potions schoolbook into his hands. It was a different one than what they used in class, purplish cover with a black cauldron on it. It’s edges were charred black, but most of the pages Keith flicked through were still readable and filled with notes in elegant handwriting.

 

‘Who is the Half Blood Prince?’, Keith asked after reading the inscription on the inside of the cover.

 

‘I don’t know. But he was hella smart. This book was something that they recovered from the forbidden room on the fifth floor, among other neat things. Survived the demon fire in a trunk that some sneaky little snitch managed to get out.’

 

Pidge looked way too smug for Keith’s taste, but he refrained from a snarky comment. Instead he turned the book around in his hands again. It really looked like something that’d belong in the trash.

 

‘You can’t show it to anyone, Keith.’, Pidge’s voice had grown serious. ‘Not your Shiro-guy, nor anyone in the dorm. Do you understand? I need to be able to trust you with this.’

 

Keith raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, but his curiousity piqued. He nodded.

 

‘Alright.’, Pidge let out a breath. ‘I reckon that means I get your ring at least until I get my book back. If you talk to anyone about this, I’ll keep it hidden somewhere you’ll never find it again.’

 

His dramatic tone made Keith snort as he took the stairs leading back down to the owlery. He’d never admit it but he’d grown pretty fond of the little gremlin over the last years.

 

‘See you soon, Pidge.’

 

‘Hope not.’

  
  


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Their first study session took place in the library the next day. Keith had spent the rest of his sunday browsing through the books Pidge had written down, trying to make himself familiar with things he’d skillfully avoided the last years through copying homework or cheating his way through tests. He’d woken up drooling on one of the pages about Jinja sprouts, the ink bleeding a bit onto his face, making him a target of Lance’s jokes in the shared bathrooms. The other Gryffindor had recovered from getting dumped rather quickly and was describing the physical features of his latest flame in scrutinizing detail, while throwing jabs at Keith, who was desperately trying to rub the ink off his cheek.

 

Sitting on a small round table between two tall bookshelves now he was trying to comprehend why Shiro had asked him for help initially. His grades were still mediocre at worst, while Keith was scratching at the edge of failing every year. They were hunched over a conversion problem, both sunken into different volumes. Irritated by the complexity of the whole recipe he glanced up to the other when he noticed a droplet of sweat on Shiro’s forehead. It was nowhere near hot in the library, and the Slytherin wasn’t wearing too many layers. He looked nervous to say the least, his leg was twitching, right hand in his lap under the table popping knuckles.

 

‘Hey…’, Keith tried. Shiro didn’t react. He didn’t want to be too loud in the library, so after a moment of hesitation he tapped the other’s arm briefly. Shiro shot up from his book.

 

‘Sorry, what…’, he startled.

 

‘Are you alright?’, Keith asked.

 

Shiro groaned. ‘I am. Don’t worry, Keith, I’m glad you’re trying to help me with this.’

 

‘That’s not… I didn’t…’, he didn’t know what to say. But prying was not a thing he did, so he settled back into his own book. He shot Shiro a last look, only to find him chewing his cheek, eyes darting over the letters and symbols too fast to actually calculate anything, pencil bent under the pressure of his thumb. He was clearly frustrated with the equation before him. Keith had never seen him like that.

 

He couldn’t really blame the Slytherin, they were trapped between shelves of dusty old volumes towering them, the air dry and a little stale, and neither of them had made any progress. He felt the dissatisfaction emanating from Shiro who was furrowing his brows violently by then, the pencil in his hand close to snapping. He had a sudden idea.

 

‘I’ll be back in ten minutes!’, he said, already up and turning to leave a very confused looking Slytherin behind. He only took eight. Sweating from all the stairs up to the Gryffindor tower he slumped into the wooden chair a little too loudly and earned himself a _shush_ from Madame Holt. Shiro looked at him with a confused face, lips pursed.

 

‘Bad food?’, he asked with a mixture of concern and amusement.

 

‘What? No!’, Keith stammered, caught off guard. ‘Just…. here!’

 

He put a pair of black and red headphones over the other’s ears and plugged them into his phone. Shiro’s eyes grew the widest he’d ever seen them get. He was staring incredulously at the phone and then at Keith who pretended he didn’t notice and scrolled through until he found a certain song.

 

Keith didn’t need to hear anything, he knew it by heart. Shiro’s expression relaxed when the soft piano started to play. He closed his eyes and let out a silent laugh, head hung a little low and shoulders relaxed. Then he looked up at Keith and opened his mouth as if to say something. Changing his mind he closed it again and reached for Keith’s arm instead, squeezing it.

 

He wanted to smile back, and this time it felt right. Trying to convey the fact that yes, he knew what Shiro was going through right now and yes, he genuinely wanted to help, the bittersweet tug on his mouth came over his face easily. After a moment of shared understanding Shiro’s hand left his arm cold when he moved it back to return to the conversion before him. His frame wasn’t relaxed completely, but his leg had stopped moving and his whole tension had eased off a bit. Keith felt relieved. Even if he wasn’t able to contribute much theoretical input, he could at least make the whole situation easier. And if it meant borrowing Pidge’s solar charger once or twice a week, that was well worth the trouble.

  
  
  


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The bludger zoomed with a small cackle over the bleachers, making the innocent watchers dive down in a panic. Shiro was chasing after it with incredible speed, sweeping a few hats off the spectator’s heads and earning small gasps here and there.

 

Keith was sitting in his usual spot, the corner in the last row, scribbling notes into his little book and taking in as much as he could. There was a move he definitely wanted to try at their next training he thought to himself with a little mischief, wanting to use Shiro’s own maneuvers against him. Whenever he watched the Slytherin fly now he felt a mixture of admiration and determination. He wanted to impress Shiro. He wanted to play against him. And maybe one day, he wanted to be his equal. A sheepish blush stole itself onto his nose and he almost missed the corkscrew the other performed to trick one bludger while catapulting the other into the direction of their keeper.

 

The Slytherins trained every Monday evening, trying different tactics and perfecting their teamplay. Teamplay; this was the only thing Shiro didn’t excel at. He was without question far ahead of any of his teammates concerning skill, strength, speed and stamina, but responding and reacting to others seemed a little frustrating to him at times, which was when he missed important opportunities to strike.

 

Keith wanted to ask him about it, he had for a while, but ultimately it had felt too intimate a conversation. Maybe the next morning. The Gryffindor tryouts were coming closer and Keith had only four more training sessions with Shiro left before the universe decided over his worth as a Quidditch player, he thought sarcastically.

 

Something hit his forehead and pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked at the piece of paper that had ricocheted into his lap. Rubbing his head with a gloved thumb he unfolded it to find a magically animated drawing of himself kissing an overly Dorito-shaped Shiro’s butt. He frowned and almost expected the Ravenclaw sitting a few rows under him to flip him off to complete the mockery. Instead he was just sitting among his friends, all of them purposefully staring at the Quidditch field, as if they hadn’t just thrown a paper ball in his face. Keith took his wand and let the drawing go up in flames, not acknowledging the sting above his eyebrow.

 

Of course someone had noticed. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been bullied for coming to every Slytherin match or training already, but since Shiro and he had started spending more time it had been inevitable. He didn’t particularly care about it all too much, but it bothered him that Shiro now might get pulled down with him. People didn’t know shit about him. Neither did Keith, but the closer he got to the Slytherin, the more human and admirable he became.

 

Down on the field the players were landing as the training ended, clapping on each others shoulders and commenting on their moves. Keith stole himself from the seat unnoticed and sneaked his way down to the exit. When he was almost out of the opening he felt a hand on his shoulder.

 

‘Keith! You came!’, Shiro was grinning at him, cheeks flushed and hair ruffled, eyes a little teary still from the harsh wind.

 

‘Yeah.’, It was all he said. His heart had made a small leap, he hadn’t expected to be talked to. Usually he wasn’t one to startle easily, but Shiro managed again and again.

 

‘I want to introduce you to two of my friends! They are formidable players and I think you could steal quite a few of their moves.’ He was gesturing towards two ridicculously tall people behind him. Of course Keith knew them by their numbers, he’d been observing their terrific teamplay quite a few times now. But without their helmets he also recognized them as Shiro’s bright-hair-club members from breakfast a few days ago.

 

‘I’d like to see him try, Shirogane.’, the guy with the slicked back long hair said with a little sneer, purposefully not using the other’s nickname. Were they really friends, Keith wondered, not letting himself be baited by his provocation.

 

‘Leave it, Lotor, he might just kick your ass in the next game!’, Shiro laughed heartily, not letting Lotor’s frosty attitude ruin his mood. The girl stepped forward, freeing her flowy hair from the bun it had been bound into. She tilted her head elegantly. Everything about those two was fluid and graceful. It was a bit unnerving.

 

‘IF he makes the team you mean, Shiro.’, she answered, slipping her hand around Lotor’s arm. The other one was extended towards Keith.

 

‘My name is Allura, of the Althean dynasty. Nice to finally meet you Keith, we’ve heard some curious things about you.’ Her smile seemed a little cool but genuine as far as he could tell. His eyes darted over to Shiro who shrugged sheepishly while he shook her hand.

 

‘I had to tell someone about the hidden talent I discovered.’, he explained, scratching the back of his neck automatically.

 

‘Oh please, captain, your rambling was almost too much to take!’, Lotor said with a sneer as Shiro grew silent, hand still on his undercut.

 

‘Anyway, Keith…’. He paused dramatically. Everything with this guy had to be intense it seemed.

 

‘Your tryout is in ten days from what I’ve heard. We will be watching.’ It sounded almost like a threat. Lotor eyed him a moment longer, raking his eyes up and down Keith’s frame, and then turned around and stalked into the changing rooms. Allura gave him a _Nice to meet you_ accompanied by a sweet wave and followed her boyfriend into the room. Shiro was standing there watching Keith intently.

 

‘They can be a handful, but they are really good people once you get to know them.’, he said after a while, smiling nervously.

 

‘Sure.’

 

‘Keith… I didn’t tell them too much about you. I just said I was excited about what you are able to do with a broom…’

 

‘You don’t have to explain yourself to me.’, Keith sighed. The thought of Shiro talking to other people about him was a bit uncomfortable. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint why it bothered him. He’d thought their meetings were something between them. But only because Keith didn’t have any other people to talk to it didn’t mean Shiro was the same. Of course he wasn’t. Normal people had friends.

 

‘I want to.’, Shiro said. ‘Explain myself I mean. Look, Keith, I think you… your talent really is something special. I just want you to know I’m not just blabbing around about you. I know you wouldn’t appreciate that.’

 

Keith didn’t know what to answer, so he resorted to staring over Shiro’s shoulder into the wooden paneling. He felt very uneasy, as if he had been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to do. Occupied in his own misery he almost missed Shiro’s _Sorry._ His eyes snapped back to the Slytherin’s. He looked serious for a change, apparently thinking he had offended him. Keith felt the familiar social exhaustion creeping back up over his spine. He didn’t want to explain himself, but somehow he still did.

 

‘You did nothing wrong,’, Keith said. ‘I’m just not used to being so social all the time.’ Shiro looked a bit taken aback at that.

 

‘Keith, we don’t have to meet up as much, if it is too...’

 

‘What?! That’s… that’s not what I meant!’, Keith interrupted him a little too quick. The situation had grown really awkward between them all of a sudden. He should have left earlier, he thought to himself as he was searching Shiro’s eyes for a clue on how the other felt. He saw him take a deep breath, a coy smile returning to his face.

 

‘Cards on the table.’, he said, making Keith’s exhaustion tipping into unease.

 

‘I think you are a really fascinating person. You have an amazing talent and you are so easy to be around. I do need a bit of help with my potions class, but I could manage on my own. It was more of an excuse to spend more time with you. I guess I wanted to get to know you better.’ Shiro was still smiling, even if his eyes betrayed the forced calmness he tried to convey. He was nervous. What an intriguing feeling.

 

‘I can take a hint Keith. So if it I came on too strong, I’m really sorry about that.’

 

Keith was taking a shallow breath to answer when the doors to the changing rooms flew open and the rest of the Slytherin team made their way back to the castle, chattering casually while eyeing Keith from the side. Apart from their Seeker all of them, including Shiro, were impossibly tall and intimidating in their own kind of way. The team’s other Beater hit Shiro’s shoulder while passing, making him flinch a little and laugh in protest. She was broad for a woman. Her hair was pressed onto her head where the helmet had been, the rest of it standing upwards furiously from the rushing air while flying. She had an obnoxious eyeliner for someone who had just exerted themselves for two hours on a Quidditch field and her lips shone with gloss. She was holding the hand of Slytherin’s seeker, a sleek girl with an incredibly tight high ponytail of fire red hair and freckles scattered on her cheeks and nose.

 

‘You not coming, old man?’, the bigger one asked in a raspy voice, giving Keith a brief glance before she followed the others, walking backwards to catch Shiro’s answer.

 

‘I’ll catch up later, see you at dinner!’, Shiro called after her. Lotor and Allura were ignoring them, walking almost regally alongside each other. When they were out of earshot, Shiro turned towards Keith again.

 

‘I’m going to change real quick. You don’t have to wait up, just… let me know if our study date tomorrow still stands.’, he said to him with raised eyebrows. Keith nodded slightly, still fighting his inner sociopath. It was Shiro. Things were simple with Shiro. This should be simple as well, he only had to get over himself.

 

‘You’re easy to be around too.’, he said, stopping the Slytherin in the doorframe to the changing room. He saw him turn his head back towards him with the brightest expression on his face.

 

‘See you tomorrow then.’, Shiro said before he closed the creaking door behind him.


	10. Quot Animi Motus Nimis

He hated being late. Being late meant drawing the attention of everyone in the classroom. It meant getting called out by the teacher. And for this specific class it meant that his colleagues would only leave a specific seat for him to take. As he opened the door to Professor Sanda’s classroom he wasn’t even surprised to see his designated seat. Located in the middle of the room, right between the group of Ravenclaws that had made a sport out of pissing him off.

 

‘What an honor that you decided to grace us with your presence, Mr. Kogane.’, Professor Sanda said as she watched him slump into his seat. She was about fifty, short, slicked back blonde hair and piercing grey eyes. And as always, she wasn’t letting it go.

 

‘Mr. Kogane.’

 

His foul mood prevented him of doing the reasonable thing, which would be to just answer politely and excuse himself for being late. He’d never been reasonable unfortunately.

 

‘5 points from Gryffindor.’, she said with a sneer, returning to the board to continue her iterations about Artificial Intelligence and their dangers. He sighed in resignation. Muggle studies could have been such an interesting subject if it weren’t for the bone dry lectures of the witch citing the three robotic laws in soporific monotony. He was about to doze off, head supported by his hand when he felt the familiar sting in the back of his neck. It had only been a question of time before it would start.

 

Knowing exactly who was throwing the little paper balls at him he suppressed the desire to turn around and beat the smug expression out of the Ravenclaw’s face. Griffin had had it out for him from the start. They’d gotten into brawls more times than he could remember, but usually Keith had been the one to take the blame. Partially because he wasn’t one to cheaply rattle people out, but also because Keith was consistently the first one to throw a punch.

 

It had gotten better over the years, with Keith developing a tolerance against petty insults and verbal low blows, but whenever Griffin and his fanclub found the opportunity they tried to provoke him into losing his temper. Today was a day they might succeed.

 

He had spent the night at Kolivan’s hut. Kolivan had been taking care of some business in Siberia, and Keith was ordered to take care of the sick Space Wolf, which had kept him awake all night. The creature had caught some kind of virus that triggered his teleportation despite the repressive collar. That basically meant he had spent the night chasing after the wolf who had beamed itself in and out of Kolivan’s hut. In the early morning nurse Sven, who sometimes helped out when neither Keith nor Kolivan had time, had relieved him of his duty, only resulting in Keith falling asleep over his overdue Mugglestudies homework. And coming in ten minutes late, stressed out and tired of life.

 

Now, what felt like the five hundredth paper ball bounced off his neck, straining his patience to the core. One off the balls landed on his desk. It was bigger than the rest, and when he ignored it it started unfolding itself, revealing another drawing. Keith’s ears started to burn with rage. On the paper was an exaggerated drawing of himself with animal ears and tail, which wasn’t the bad part. Next to him though was a drawing of Shiro, posing lewd in excruciating detail, captioned _Shirogane’s latest bitch_. He’d have admired the artistic talent if he hadn’t already been up, grabbing Griffin’ table and hurling it towards him.

 

Instead of the expected impact the table suddenly exploded into a flock of feathers, leaving Griffin with a horrified expression and raised arms. Keith whirled around, face contorted into an angry grimace, to find Professor Sanda wand in hand and face unnervingly neutral.

 

‘50 points from Gryffindor. I’d like to speak with you after class about detention, Mr. Kogane.’

 

Lance groaned loudly while the teacher turned the pile of feathers back into a table, landing softly where it belonged. Keith was still standing, breathing heavily and willing his heart rate down with all the restraint he could muster. He wanted to say a thousand different things.

 

_It wasn’t worth it._

 

Just when he thought that the day couldn’t get any worse, he saw Sanda pick up the drawing from his table. That was the moment when his brain went out, alongside his knees. Resigned, he let himself fall back into the chair, only hoping she’d leave it at that. Of course she didn’t.

 

‘Also I’d like to speak to your guardian about this, Mr. Kogane. I am worried about your spare time activities.’ With that she let the paper slip into her robes, returning back to the board. Keith spent the rest of the lesson staring through the scratches on the surface of his desk empty eyed, not even registering the muffled laughter around him.

  
  


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Sanda had given him detention the rest of Friday and Saturday, making him miss Shiro’s training session with him. His mood was more than foul as he kept copying medieval texts about the magical properties of the Gregorian Choral. It was beyond tiresome, especially when his mind kept racing around to all the things he missed out on, including breakfast. Griffin’s taunting had started again when he had entered the Great Hall that morning, making him turn around on the spot and spend the day starving. His stomach felt like it was digesting itself, and the feeling reconfirmed that his current situation was just beyond miserable.

 

In the dim light of a candelabra he couldn’t tell if it was four in the afternoon or ten at night. A small sphere was hanging in the air above him with a silent buzz, obscuring the little natural light that was coming through a slit in the stone wall. It added an orange glow to the room, making the whole atmosphere even more smothering. He knew that Sanda was able to watch him through it, and even if he was sure she had better things to do than spying on him all day, he didn’t want to risk losing his phone just because he wanted to look at the time. He’d just have to endure it.

 

His phone. He had gotten an unexpected amount of use out of it in the last few days. Having any kind of communicational device in Hogwarts was, mildly stated, unnecessary. There was no signal anywhere near it, let alone Wifi, and the castle didn’t have any electrical outlets. A few students owned solar powered charging devices, but they were very rare. Lucky for Keith, Pidge was one of them. He used his phone mostly as an alarm clock, and of course, for music. It had gotten him through his rougher periods in Hogwarts, and although he had always been careful that no one spotted him with the cell. I wasn’t forbidden per se but he’d rather people didn’t know. Well, now Shiro knew of course, but he had very dramatically sworn to secrecy after their first meetup in the library.

 

Their study sessions had developed into more of an emotional support kind of thing than tutoring. Keith didn’t know what he had expected to be honest, there had been no way in hell that he would be able to teach Shiro. A nice side effect was that he himself had started to comprehend some basic principles of ingredient-conversions himself, but mainly he was there to provide reassurance, distraction whenever Shiro started to get too fidgety and to review everything with him. And, of course, the music.

 

Thinking of Shiro made him sigh in frustration over the teachings of Pope Gregor I. There was one more thing adding to his growing discomfort and frustration. It was Saturday, October 31st. It was Halloween. Keith didn’t particularly care for the holiday, but the headmaster was a sucker for celebrations, organized get-togethers and dances for the smallest occasions. Even if he didn’t care for the social aspects of it, Keith had hoped he could use it as an excuse to talk to Shiro some more.

 

They had started to see each other every day, be it for Quidditch practice or study sessions. Not having been able to meet up for two days now, Keith felt a little restless. He missed the cheesy jokes, the playful teasing. Shiro’s dorky cheerfulness had brightened his days more than he had thought, and now that he was trapped in a dark and dusty closet, copying texts in Old High German, not comprehending a single word, his anxiety started to scratch at the corner of his mind again.

 

After what felt like hours the door finally creaked open. His hand had started cramping up quite some time ago which had added to his self pity. Professor Sanda was staring at him from the exit with a stern expression.

 

‘Mr. Kogane, I expect you are unreasonable as always about your misbehaviour,  despite the given measures?’, she asked.

 

Keith didn’t let himself be baited. He continued copying the paragraph he was working on, acknowledging her with a _Good evening, Professor._ Merlin, it had to be evening already. He didn’t know if he could stand it any longer.

 

‘I had a talk with Kolivan, Mr. Kogane. As you can imagine he was delighted about the incident and wishes to speak with you tomorrow morning, as soon as the sun rises. I hope you will refrain from letting yourself be provocated during my lectures again. It is unfitting for a wizard and could be reduced to your heritage, which is nothing you’d appreciate I believe.’ Her tone hadn’t changed, still he could almost feel her malignity on his skin. He was dissociating himself from the room in order not to scream at the witch. How dared she talk about his parents.

 

‘Yes, Professor.’, was what he answered after a short pause, feeling empty and about to explode at the same time.

 

‘Good. You may leave now. Your homework assignment is due Tuesday, I wouldn’t recommend you skipping out on it again. Good evening, Mr. Kogane.’

  
  


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Screw her. Screw Griffin.

 

His knuckles were bleeding from the punch he had thrown against a wall a corridor away from Professor Sanda’s office. He could heal them up easily, but the sting kept him down to earth for now, being able to focus on the burn instead of his slowly dying anger.

 

It was ten in the evening. The Halloween event would be going on until eleven, but he didn’t know if he was in any state to attend. His thoughts circled back to Shiro, and instantly some of the tension in his neck eased off. He wanted to see him at least, that would be enough to cheer him up. Sneak in, get a pastry to silence the still roaring stomach, wave at the Slytherin and get back into the tower. If he was lucky he would even be able to avoid Lance or Griffin.

 

Griffin.

 

The Ravenclaw wouldn’t get away so easily if Keith ever encountered him in an empty corridor. He had played out multiple scenarios in his head over the years about all the things he’d like to curse him with. It had even boosted his Transfiguration grades for a while, which had delighted Professor Alfor. Except from a few black eyes on both sides he hadn’t been able to release his pent up frustration onto Griffin yet, but he was patient in that regard.

 

Another rumble from his stomach made him quicken his steps towards the Great Hall. In, pastry, quick wave at Shiro and out again. It seemed easy enough. Warm light was streaming through the door crack of the Great Hall, chatter and cello heavy music seeping out and contradicting his foul mood. A giant pumpkin was floating above the threshold, a moustache etched into it instead of creepy eyes and pointy teeth. He slipped in unnoticed and made his way along the wall, getting closer to the tables adorned with loads of Halloween themed treats.

 

The four tables had been pushed to the walls to make room for dancing and a few heaps of pillows and blankets that served as seating. A magical fire was burning in a giant goblet right in the middle, spewing figures from children’s horror tales into the air. Keith ducked as a flaming headless rider galopped over his head, eyeing the different kinds of pastries on the table before him. He could get to the fancier treats, but then he’d have to walk further into the hall. This corner was perfect, he was partly obscured by a wooden decoration consisting of interwoven black branches, adorned with little flapping bats. He picked one off and sniffed it. Definitely liquorice.

 

Taking a bite out of a pumpkin pie he observed the people in the room. Since it was late already, only 5th years and older students seemed to be in the hall. A few were dancing in embarrassed laughter where music was playing from a gramophone. He thought he could make out Lance, performing a mortifying version of a shuffle to impress a poor girl who apparently was too polite to just walk away. A few teachers were still sitting at the table up on the stairs, conversing casually, amused by the careless entertainment of the young people below.

 

He spotted the bright-hair-club on the opposite side of the hall, observing and whispering into each others ears. Shiro though was nowhere near them. He felt a small pang of disappointment jump up his throat and was about to return to his dorm when he spotted him. Or rather them.

  
  


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In nature creatures had three different strategies for surviving imminent danger. The first was to fight, the second was to flee, and the third one was to freeze. Keith’s situation couldn't be compared to being dangerous, but still he found himself confronted with said possibilities. He had spotted Shiro at the opposite corner near the entry gate, tucked away a bit to avoid too much attention. His back was facing Keith, broad shoulders hiding a person behind him he had almost missed.

 

Of course Shiro would be socializing, there were few people who didn’t like Golden Boy, and he had to have many friends throughout all houses. What struck him as odd though was the lack of space between him and the Ravenclaw he was cornering. Keith didn’t know the guy, but judging by his looks he must be an 8th-year. He didn’t seem bothered by the close proximity of Shiro’s body, a dark skinned hand on the Slytherin’s arm, face scrunched in what seemed like resigned amusement.

 

Keith didn’t know who the Ravenclaw was. He didn’t know his relationship with Shiro. And what bothered him most, he didn’t know why he felt like he had to get away. Watching the the older students interact in such an intimate manner made him feel uncomfortable for reasons he could only guess.

 

As much as he tried to suppress the feeling though, he couldn’t shake it, and decided to silently retreat without being noticed by anyone still partying in the Great Hall. Seeing Shiro hadn’t had the expected effect on his mood so he might as well be miserable alone in his bed. He had already snuck through the heavy gate when he heard a familiar voice call for him.

 

‘Keith! I thought you wouldn’t come!’ Shiro was walking towards him with a smile on his face and a few giant disgusting looking gummy worms writhing in his arms.

 

‘I was hungry.’, Keith said, happy and mortified at the same time.

 

‘I guess you don’t want to get back inside then.’, he said, smile turning into a grin. He held up the worms in his hand. ‘Feel like taking this somewhere more quiet?’

  
  


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In the end Keith wasn’t able to say no. They had snuck up the Astronomy Tower, sitting on the edge, arms on the marble rail, legs dangling through the gaps. Below them they could see the lights from the Great Hall dancing around like tiny fireflies.

 

‘You have unrestriced access to the tower?! How freaking close are you with Professor Holt?’, Keith had asked when the statue guarding the huge tower had just moved aside at their approach.

 

‘Too close. Don’t tell on me though, or I’m as good as dead.’, Shiro had answered with a laugh, leaving Keith with more questions than before. As if he would ever rattle him out, Shiro had far more leverage on Keith than the other way around.

 

Now, gnawing at their gummy Flubberworms and looking out over the greenhouse and the Forbidden Forest, the cold night air brought back the uneasy feeling from before. Shiro had noticed, but Keith had left his question hanging in the air above them where it pressed down heavily onto both of them. The silence was uncomfortable, not like the ones he was used to having with Kolivan. It was one full of unspoken words, of wanting to say too much and nothing at all at once. Shiro was the one to break it.

 

‘I’m sorry if I did something to throw you off. I don’t mind if you want to leave.’, he said, face painfully honest. Keith sighed.

 

‘You did nothing wrong. I wasn’t in the mood, shouldn’t have gone down in the first place.’, he answered, staring out at the forest. He wasn’t able to look Shiro in the eyes for too long, feeling that the Slytherin might stare right through his petty jealousy.

 

‘You don’t have to tell me, but what were you doing today? You only owled me that note saying _won’t make it today._ I was a bit…. disappointed to be completely honest.’ Shiro didn’t look disappointed, he was still smiling somehow, his fingers scratching at the back of his neck while he bit off another gummyworm’s head. Who even said _owled._

 

‘Detention. Couldn’t get out of it.’

 

‘Is that why your hand is roughed up? What did you do? Disfigure another teacher?’

 

It was meant to come out as a joke, but the glance Keith shot him shut him up immediately. He hadn’t meant to look that annoyed, but the memory of it added to his growing discomfort. His mood had turned foul, and not even Shiro’s surprised face could soothe it.

 

‘I threw a table into a fucktard’s face.’ Keith held his stare. Shiro was looking at him with a mixture of disbelief and horror. Keith tried to look grave, but was thrown off guard when Shiro’s expression shifted and he started laughing uncontrollably.

 

‘What….Stop making fun of me?!’, he almost shouted at the Slytherin, feeling the laughter creep into the corners of his mouth and rendering his anger meaningless.

 

‘Pffffft...I’m… haha, I’m so sorry, but pffffff… _FUCKTARD_! KEITH!’, Shiro blurted out, holding his stomach and sending a few unfortunate Flubberworms over the edge into their certain death. By now Keith was chiming in with suppressed choking sounds, still trying to fight the urge of comedic release. The whole situation of the other laughing at his misery with such glee next to magical candy hurling itself over a marble railing into suicide made their scenario so absurd that Keith’s anger blurred into incredulous amusement. Shiro was such a dork.

 

 _ <Incredible, _ he thought. The laughter had eased the mood greatly, making him braver than he usually was.

 

‘I wanted to see you, that’s why I went down today.’, Keith said after a deep breath, his stomach immediately jumping with nerves. He watched Shiro calm down slowly, taking another Flubberworm and offering it to Keith.

 

‘I was thinking of sneaking some of those up to the Gryffindor tower for you.’ Shiro gestured towards the disgusting gummy candy writhing around on the marble rail.

 

‘I thought of you when I saw them. Wait, that came out wrong. Because you like magical creatures, you know?’, he smiled. Keith took the worm and gnawed at it without biting off a piece. It was far too intense, tasting of cinnamon and lemoncest. Shiro had wanted to break the rules for him. He might’ve even persuaded the Fat Lady to let him through, charming as he was. Plus, he associated Keith with repulsing gummyworms. He felt absurdly glad. That emotion turned around within seconds though when Shiro asked his next question.

 

‘Why didn’t you want to say hello down in the hall?’

 

Keith was just staring at him, his brain going a hundred miles an hour to find a way not to sound like a pubescent teenager. He couldn’t. All he could do was sugarcoat it, which he usually hated. _The end justifies the means,_ he thought.

 

‘I wanted but… You looked busy. I didn’t want to intrude myself.’, he said, trying not to sound too sheepish.

 

‘I wasn’t… oh…’ Shiro’s face fell. He looked as uncomfortable now as Keith felt.

 

‘Look, it’s none of my business. I just didn’t felt like bursting in on... _that_.’, he said, hoping they could just leave the topic behind. Of course Shiro didn’t.

 

‘ _THAT_ was Adam. He’s … he’s my ex.’

 

Keith felt his eyes widen and mouth fall open. As if they had been in an old western a gush of wind decided to blow through at that exact moment, whistling in between the stony merlons, ruffling Shiro’s bangs in an almost disgustingly cliche kind of way. His gaze was intense, as if he was testing Keith. What for he wasn’t sure, but the uneasy feeling in his stomach had dropped into something uglier, clawing at his brain which was still fighting for calm and reason. After what felt agonizingly long Shiro let out a disappointed sigh and dropped his gaze. Keith immediately felt worse. What had the other expected him to say?

 

‘It’s fine, Keith. I get it all the time. I just… I didn’t think you’d be like that.’

 

What. He didn’t understand a word coming from Shiro, who’s mood had turned into something he hadn’t shown towards Keith before. It was cold and hard. He felt like shouting. At Shiro, at the forest, at something. Instead he willed his demons down with all he had. He was still staring at the other when Shiro stood up, leaning his hands on the rail between the forgotten Flubberworm candy and frowned his eyebrows at the Great Hall below them. Keith had been trying to sort his thoughts in order to mutter anything logical when Shiro was the one to break the silence again.

 

‘I don’t think we need to train together anymore. Your tryouts are soon, and you can keep using Red if you still want.’ His expression wasn’t unfriendly, but his eyes were ice, staring out into the night, not looking at anything particular. He sighed.

 

‘I thought you knew about it. It’s not a secret, but I’m not walking around the castle wearing a pride flag. I…’ He paused a few seconds, but the words wouldn’t come. He still didn’t look at him. For a second Keith thought he saw something like hurt scurry over the Slytherin’s expression, but it was gone so fast he might’ve imagined it.

 

‘Nevermind.’ Shiro had taken a step back and was turning towards the stairs.

Fight, flight or freeze. Keith had fled the first time today down in the hall, it hadn’t worked. The second time, right before that moment, he had spent frozen, which obviously hadn’t worked either. There was only one choice left, and he wasn’t going to let Shiro get away.

 

Before he could think rationally about his reaction he had already grabbed the Slytherin's wrist. Shiro flinched in surprise and turned to look him straight in the eye with a mixture of disappointment and something a little warmer that Keith couldn’t quite make out. He swallowed heavily and willed his voice calm.

 

‘I don’t know what you’re thinking of me, but I don’t give a shit about that.’

 

He stood as tall as he could, chest pressed outwards and his free fist balled at his side. Shiro’s expression shifted into disbelief and… did Keith see wrongly, or was the other amused?

 

‘You...you don’t give a shit about what I think of you?’

 

‘Wh… SHIRO! I don’t care if you’re gay or hetero or into mermaid freak shit! I’m serious!’

 

He was drooping his shoulders in defeat by then, the semi-heroic stance from a second ago lost in the resignation of his inability to express his emotions properly. Shiro was looking at him wide eyed, relief and humor washing over his face and making it contort in a way that suggested…

 

‘If you start laughing now I swear I’ll beat you up!’, Keith growled. He didn’t even know if he meant it, everything was too confusing at this point. He thought he knew why Shiro had reacted the way he had, but the exact reason behind his general distress was beyond Keith. There were so many different signals and interpreting them felt like playing multiple rounds of wizard-chess at the same time.

 

Shiro took a deep breath, willing his face into something neutral before he smiled weakly again.

 

‘So you do care what I think of you…’, he asked him with naive honesty. Keith felt his ears turn red. In that moment he felt a tug on his arm, coming from the wrist he had been clamping all that time. Shiro was pulling his arm back while taking a step towards him, effectively hauling Keith against his chest, wrapping his other arm around his back. _Warm_ was the first thing that seeped into Keith’s mind, startled by the too intimate gesture. His pulse started racing in his temples.

 

‘I’m sorry, I’m… you don’t know how it feels. I’m really glad. I care what you think.’, Shiro said in a low and quiet voice. He could feel the slight scratch of a coming stubble against his ear as the others jaw moved, which was the breaking point for Keith. With a little more force than necessary he stepped out of the short embrace, head feeling dizzy and under pressure.

 

‘It’s fine.’, Keith said, reaching back to brace himself on the rail, not able to look the other in the eye. Shiro hesitated for a moment, before leaning back beside him, facing a giant copper construction built to observe the stars above them. They stayed like this until Keith’s blood pressure had stabilized again, and he slid back onto the floor, grabbing one of the few remaining Flubberworms that hadn’t committed suicide via railing jump. Shiro sunk down next to him with a lot more grace, carefully leaving a foot of space between them.

 

‘I was too quick to judge you.’, he said.

 

‘Once bitten, twice shy. I’m sure people gave you enough crap about it.’, Keith answered, heart still beating a little faster than normal. He only got a huff in response, which said enough. They were nibbling at their worms in silence again, this time it felt lighter though. Shiro radiated heat and relief even from the distance, and Keith felt at ease. He had found out something personal about him, and even if it made no difference to him personally he still felt closer to the Slytherin. It felt warm and encompassing, and when he looked back at the other’s face the feeling exploded in his stomach. Without being able to control himself, he started grinning, earning him a playful sideblow from Shiro, which he countered with a chuckle and a shove to his shoulder.

 

‘Just to clarify though.’, Shiro said, as they settled down again, laughing. ‘I definitely don’t have a mermaid kink.’


	11. Dilectum Amicum

The Fat Lady started to make a fuss about being woken up late, as always, but immediately shut up when she saw Shiro standing next to him.

 

‘Oh my, what a pleasant surprise I have to say. And here I thought my early awakening would be in vain.’, she purred, making it hard for Keith to restrain his gag reflex.

 

‘The pleasure is all mine, Milady. May I ask you to turn a beautiful blind eye to my friend’s late return, it was my fault entirely he has been engaged for that long.’

 

Oh Merlin. Shiro was the same. He could only mask his snort as a cough when the Slytherin pinched him in the side playfully. The Fat Lady hadn’t noticed, making googly eyes at Shiro, whisking her chiffon shawl behind her with the grace of a mountain troll. Her double chin protruded as she lowered her head in faked abashment, her lashes fluttering triple the amount they’d usually have done. It lookes like she was having a flirtatious seizure. Keith, dying from second hand embarrassment watching the display of this absurd mating ritual, was considering ditching them and sleeping in the corridor when Shiro had finally decided to relief him from his pain.

 

‘I thank you with all my heart and wish you the most pleasant of nights, fair maid.’ Shiro said, indicating goodbye with a bow of his head, while flashing Keith a wicked grin from the side, who only made a gagging motion.

 

‘Quiznak’, Keith said without thinking, when he felt Shiro flinch a bit next to him. He thought he heard the Slytherin gleefully mutter _interesting_ to himself as he climbed through the portrait to the Gryffindor common rooms, watching him disappear at the end of the corridor.

 

His roommates were asleep already. Looking at his phone now the display said 1:58AM. He should probably get some sleep. Shiro had suggested Keith join him on his morning workout and Keith, high on newly blossomed friendship and sugar had agreed a little too quickly. He knew he’d hate himself in the morning for it, but for now it made him incredibly happy.

 

He’d gotten to know many more things about Shiro that night, who in a flurry of relief and affection had revealed some more personal facts. It seemed petty, but Keith liked to believe that not many people knew as much about the Slytherin. Although Shiro seemed like an open book full of dorky jokes and cheerfulness, Keith had noticed that he was a genius at evading questions that got too close to home. Now that he thought of it, he had even done it to Keith a few times.

  
  


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‘Shirogane, huh?’

 

‘What about it?’

 

‘It’s a Japanese name.’

 

‘Well done, Sherlock!’, Shiro laughed. ‘Are you implying I’m not American?’

 

‘What? That’s not…. ‘

 

‘I know, I know. I got those ‘ _Where are you really from_ ’ just a bit too often. My parents were Japanese immigrants, they raised me with mostly American values and traditions though. A pity if you ask me, I’d love to know more about Japan.’

 

Keith was watching him intently, soaking up every word. Shiro hadn’t wanted to talk about his parents before, so he felt relieved the other seemed to trust him more now. Which was why Keith immediately regretted his next word as soon as it left his lips.

 

‘Were?’

 

Shiro looked at him, only now realizing that he had spoken in the Past Tense, the look in his eyes not matching the smile on his face. He didn’t answer, which was answer enough for Keith.

 

‘I’m sorry.’, he said. ‘I kinda know how it feels. Is…. Is that why you’re close with Professor Holt?’

 

Shiro nodded. He looked almost stoic leaned against the rail in the pale moonlight, but Keith knew the stance and knew the face. He had used them far too often himself to not know the storm that was raging inside. He felt like he should touch him. Shoulder, arm, just somewhere to offer reassurance. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. He decided to change the topic.

 

‘So, can you speak Japanese then?’

 

‘I can. Although I suck at reading it.’ Shiro chuckled, almost waiting for Keith to respond, before he asked, ‘Do you want me to say something?’

 

‘What do you want to say?’

 

‘That’s…. I don’t know, usually this conversation goes the other way around.’, he laughed, leaving Keith confused.

 

‘Okay, okay…’, he cleared his throat. ‘キースくんにすべてを伝えることができればいいのに.’

 

‘That sounds so weird.’,Keith grinned, ‘What did you say?’

 

‘That you’re an amazing Quidditch player.’, Shiro winked.

 

‘Not yet!’, Keith reminded him, the thought of the tryouts exciting him at the same time as making him nervous.

 

They talked more about Quidditch, Shiro telling him all about his favourite team and players while Keith listened intently, at times more fascinated by the excited faces Shiro made than the actual things he was being explained. He was captivating. Although the scar was disfiguring the Slytherin’s otherwise attractive face, it gave him an aura of adventure and danger, and it contorted in an almost funny way when he grinned really widely.

 

Keith watched how it moved while Shiro was talking on about Krum’s achievements for the Bulgarian National team, and how he’d bet half his fortune they’d get the champions title again. His bright hair looked almost white in the moonlight, the wind continuing to blow through the Slytherin’s bangs that were left longer than the rest of his undercut. It was a strange hairstyle honestly, but somehow he made it work. It was almost as if someone had over designed him to make sure he’d stand out.

 

Keith was dying to know where Shiro’s strange hair color and scar came from, but having pried far too deep into personal issues already he filed the question away for another time.

  
  


…………………………………………….

  
  
  


They were standing in a circular room in the highest one of the Hogwarts towers, waiting for their Divination professor to finish explaining their assignment. It was little hard to understand at times due to a severe case of Torrett’s that fortunately had been acknowledged by the magical community as a neurological disorder. The student’s lovingly called him Professor Bi-Boh-Bi, because he was using these syllables multiple times in between his words. It was like deciphering a secret language children had made up.

 

What also didn’t help the Professor was his ridiculous appearance. He was about five feet two inches, extremely thin and with a tiny, bald head. What he lacked in mass he definitely made up with determination and dramatical attitude. At the moment he was gesturing at the artificial severed hands on the tables before them with a grave _Biiiii,_ the different lines drawn out on the board behind him. It was a partner assignment, but they were an uneven number in this course and Keith hoped that as usual he could wait for the loner spot. Fate had a different plan for him, a lanky boy with tan skin and dark brown hair snatched his elbow and dragged him down onto one of the giant pillows. Great.

 

‘What the fuck, mullet?’

 

‘Good morning to you too, Lance.’, Keith said with as much sarcasm as he could muster up through his sore body. Shiro’s training that morning had destroyed him, and he was lucky if he’d be able to get up the stairs to the dorms later on. Additionally Kolivan had had a _talk_ with him about what had happened in Sanda’s class, which had consisted of a disappointed stare and charging him with stable-duty for the next week as imposition.

 

‘Don’t give me that crap! When were you going to tell us that you’d try out for my spot? MY SPOT?’, Lance was far too loud for Keith’s taste, making the pairs next to them glance over in annoyance. Professor Bi-Boh-Bi hadn’t noticed yet.

 

‘Keep your fucking voice down. It’s not my fault Acxa didn’t tell you.’, Keith answered, faking interest in the severed hand’s lifeline. From what he could tell the person had a long and happy life ahead of them, but he didn’t know much about Cheiromancy, so who was he to tell. Also, the lack of body was an indication towards an opposite fate.

 

‘ _I’M_ the Seeker. Don’t think you can replace _ME_ in any way, mullet. Even if you make the team don’t even dream about getting _MY_ position.’

 

Keith had planned on ignoring Lance, already having anticipated the other boy creating some kind of unnecessary drama about the tryouts. But his muscles were sore, his brain in caffeine-withdrawal and his stomach empty. Patience was a virtue Keith was still working on. Right now, with an annoying voice hissing in his ear and a hand yanking at his hoodie it failed him. He whipped his head around to death-glare Lance down into his pillow.

 

‘Listen to me, you moron. I could take your place in a heartbeat, and you know why? You’re mediocre. You could play any fucking position in the team and still be only adequate at best. You don’t take it seriously enough to ever be a top notch Seeker, and you know it, or you wouldn’t come after me in such a pathetic way. I’m looking forward to kicking your ass tomorrow.’

 

With that he stood up, leaving Lance open mouthed and quiet for once in his life.

 

‘Professor, I feel sick, may I go to the infirmary?’

 

The combination of early exercise and lack of coffee and breakfast had made his skin pale enough to actually look sick it seemed because the Professor dismissed him with an unnerved _Bi-Boooh_ and turned his attention towards a pair of very irritated Slytherin students who had confused the different lines. Keith slung his messenger bag over his shoulder and stomped out without sparing Lance another look.

  
  
  


……………………………………..

  
  
  


He was too late for breakfast, so his only way to get some food was to sneak into the kitchen. He’d gone up to the infirmary so he wouldn’t get into trouble if Professor Bi-Boh-Bi checked after him, but nurse Sven had quickly dismissed him with the order to get some sugar into his system. Keith had declined the offered chocolate bar, lusting for something meaty after serving Lance his own tongue on a silver platter. It had felt good, even if it might’ve been a little immature.

 

The Great Hall was completely empty as expected, so he made his way down into the basement. From his experience the house elves would be occupied with laundry at this time of day, so he might be able to sneak in and grab a leftover sausage or two. He pulled carefully on the heavy door in order to avoid its creak alarming anyone of the intruder and peeked inside.

 

Five long tables were standing in the kitchen, mirroring the setup from the Great Hall, pots and pans stacked in cabinets and on stoves. It smelled like heaven, cooked ham and fried sausages dominating the air over the more subtle smell of eggs and baked beans. He was about to take a careful step inside when something struck him, making his body jerk back in surprise. He barely suppressed a surprised gasp, steadying himself on the doorframe.

 

In search of the spells origin his eyes went down and saw a pair of giant turquoise eyes glaring at him angrily. The house elf’s fingers were still raised in a snippy motion, indicating it was the one who had hexed him. Keith raised two hands in surrender, knowing very well what house elves were capable of. They’d never hurt a student, but they knew a wide range of unpleasant hexes that he had gotten too close to an unfortunate number of times already. Damn that pineapple incident, his life at Hogwarts could have been so much easier without it. He tried to put on an appeasing voice, not wanting a permanent itch or a twitching eyelid over the next few days.

 

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna intrude! I just thought, there might be some leftover breakfast…’

 

‘STUDENTS ARE NOT ALLOWED IN THE KITCHEN!!!’, the elf screeched with an agonizing voice.

 

‘THE YOUNG MASTER HAS TO LEAVE OR ROVER HAS TO HEX HIM OUT!’

 

‘Alright, alright, I’m leaving!’, Keith said stumbling back. The door slammed into its frame a mere inch away from Keith’s face. So far so good. He was drowning in self pity, contemplating Sven’s chocolate bar when he made out a familiar voice.

 

‘Hey man, what’s the ruckus over there?’

 

The Hufflepuff he’d met a week ago had appeared out of nowhere and was strolling casually towards him. Keith didn’t like to ask others for favors, but he didn’t know if he’d be physically able to climb the stairs to the infirmary again for the sweet treat. It was worth a shot.

 

‘Hey, uhhm…’, he willed his brain to not let him down, ‘Hunk, right?’

 

‘I am impressed, dude! What are you doing here? Missed breakfast? Yeah, us too...’, Hunk chattered with a knowing grin. ‘What did you do to poor Rover though that he hates you so much? House elves are really hard to upset.’

 

‘It’s… a long story.’, Keith said sheepishly, not liking the direction the conversation had steered in. Do it like Shiro, he thought. Redirect.

 

‘You seem to have a good relationship with her...him...it?’

 

‘Him. Yeah, we’re basically buddies, but you should see him with my friend Katie, they’re like siblings. It’s so weird, but who am I to judge?’ He laughed at the pathetic noise Keith’s stomach made in response.

 

‘Anyway, what can I get you? Since I am not yet banned from Hogwarts’ _treasure_ _chamber_ and going in anyway for eggs and bacon.’, he wiggled his eyebrows, which confused Keith.

 

‘Uhm… sausages. Please.’, he added quickly, watching the other do a pilot’s salute and disappear behind the heavy door.


	12. Dolor participatur

It was the day of the tryouts. Keith hadn’t thought he’d be nervous, but there he was, shaking his leg under the breakfast table and picking at his scrambled eggs. He didn’t feel like eating, and not even the latest Quidditch article in the Daily Prophet could distract him long enough for his pulse to slow down. Across the hall he saw Shiro chatting animatedly with his bright hair club, occasionally looking over and winking at him. It only made his stomach drop further. He thanked the Slytherin silently for not coming over, the last thing he needed was more attention on himself.

 

The other members of the Gryffindor team, except Lance of course, had already greeted him with mixed amounts of goodwill. They, like the other Gryffindors, were used to Keith being dismissive and antisocial, and they had expressed their surprise over him wanting to join the team in the form of incredulous good-lucks and break-a-legs. Acxa apparently had told them only the day before, possibly to avoid him being bothered by some of their more motivated players.

 

One of them was now sitting at the opposite end of the Gryffindor table, throwing him venomous glances from time to time that Keith tried to ignore. Lance was Lance, he’d be fine again the next day. Usually he wouldn’t care, but in case he really made the team, he had to put up with him close range once or twice a week at the trainings.

 

If.

 

If he made the team.

 

Acxa was sitting beside him, eyeing him curiously under her catlike eyeliner, purple colored lips pressed together tightly. He had never understood make-up completely, but wearing it to play Quidditch seemed beyond his power of comprehension.

 

‘What?’, he barked, when she wouldn’t look away.

 

‘You need to eat something!’, she said with the tone of a teacher. ‘I know your stomach is probably turning upside down right now, but you’re going to pass out if you don’t, and I don’t need another broken limb on my captain’s record.’

 

Charming. He sighed and forced himself to chew and swallow a forkful of eggs. Usually they were delicious, but that day they tasted like cardboard.

  
  


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Acxa had been right. Even if he had only managed to force down half of his breakfast, he felt the energy coursing through his veins in anticipation. It could also be the caffeine. The moment he stepped out onto the field, dressed in borrowed gear of crimson and and gold, the nervousness had faded into the background, leaving only determination and the urge to get on his broom as quickly as possible.

 

He could see a few figures sitting scattered over the bleachers. After the war the quidditch field had to be rebuilt, and they had made it a bit more modern. Instead of towers designated to each house and the teachers it was now rows of seats all around and close to the ground. There were two elevated roofed areas behind the team’s goalposts hosting teachers, special guests and the commentator. Although the bleachers were adorned with the house’s different colors, only a few actually cared where you sat. Belonging to that group of people was the bright hair club, sitting in the back row of green seats, silver pennants waving above them in the autumn breeze. He saw a tiny Shiro in the distance wave at him and gesture something that could be a thumbs up. The other two didn’t move a muscle, only observing the field.

 

Keith savoured the pang of happiness about Shiro coming to watch him, and then pushed it to the back of his mind. It was time. The others had finally finished changing, moving into a circle and looking at him expectantly. Acxa started speaking, drawing the attention away from him.

 

‘Okay, listen up. I know we have a new face in the team, although most of you have met Kogane already, I believe. I don’t want this training to be any different just because he’s here. We’re gonna play a mock match with stripped down teams. Team one is gonna be Veronica, Nyma, Rachel and Lance, team two is Luca, Rollo, Kogane and myself. You know your positions, show me your best moves and teamplay.’

 

She turned to Keith.

 

‘Your task today is mainly to get the snitch and avoid being blasted by the Bludgers. Show me what you can do, Kogane.’

 

He nodded, face stern with concentration as the two teams slung colored ribbons over their torsos indicating their team. While Acxa was waiting to release the various balls, they mounted their brooms and pushed themselves up into the air, hovering fifteen feet above ground facing each other. Keith stayed in the back as he had been taught.

 

Although he had learned the rules to Quidditch pretty early on with his dad, Shiro and him had gone over them the day before, making Keith realize that quite a few things had changed since his old edition of Quidditch through the Ages had been released. Foul regulations had tightened, players were allowed to also use other balls than the ones designated to their position and they had forbidden certain kinds of brooms. Fortunately the Paladin series wasn’t one of those.

 

Acxa whistled through her teeth and released Snitch and Bludgers, before taking the Quaffle under her arm and hoisting herself up into the air. Keith immediately urged Red to go higher, the broom following his command without delay. Due to the lower number of players he could oversee their movements pretty easily in his peripheral vision while scanning the playing field for the Snitch.

 

Down below  Acxa had assumed the position of the goalkeeper, her eyes on Keith instead of the Quaffle, which was changing its owner pretty rapidly. He swallowed and tried not to let it affect him. The sun was hidden behind clouds, so he couldn’t hope for a sudden reflection revealing the location of the small golden ball.

 

Red reacted before he did. As if the broom acted as a sixth sense she urged them downwards, evading a bludger by a few inches. The ball charged a few more feet sideways, making little angry noises as he turned around then and tried to catapult Keith off his broom once again. Keith performed an elegant flip to get out of the Bludger’s reach, the ball returning back into the lower regions of the playing field. He made the mistake of letting his gaze roam over the spectators, subconsciously looking for a certain Slytherin, when he noticed Griffin and his consorts taking their place on crimson chairs.

 

Keith had never really cared about house rivalries, but he desperately wanted to kick the Ravenclaw’s butts back into their own section. He focused on the players again, keeping an eye on the Bludgers and the opposing Beater. Only then did it occur to him to look out for Lance. The other Seeker had been circling him from even higher, making impatient swirls and dives only to return back to his position. Watching him made him a little anxious, but observing the enemy Seeker was inevitable in a Quidditch match.

 

For a second Keith thought about pulling the Wronski Feint, but he didn’t want to come across as too braggy. Still, being able to watch Lance’s panic as he was about to crash into the ground made him seriously consider it. The universe decided for him, because he made out a tiny golden sparkle in the middle of the field. Before he could consciously urge Red downwards she had already jump started their rapid descent, leaving Lance behind above them. Keith saw him contort his face in angry surprise before he leaned forward on his own broom.

 

The ground came closer dangerously fast. The Snitch was hurrying over the grass with jerky movements, its position making it necessary to angle the tip of his broom almost perpendicular to the ground. His blood was rushing in his ears as he squinted his eyes, ready to lift one arm off Red to catch the Snitch. That’s when it hit him. He had never tried to pull this move with only one hand while trying to capture the small ball at the same time. The immediate pang of doubt was replaced by spiteful dedication.

 

He trusted Red. The broom had never let him down, and their interaction had gotten more effective with every time they flew together. As if agreeing with him something cunning nudged at the back of his mind, urging him to keep the nosedive with lethal speed towards the ground. He heard a scared gasp behind him. Apparently Lance had given up.

 

The Snitch, which had moved towards his anticipated location with continuous speed suddenly made a quick dart forward, threatening to disappear towards the bleachers facing Keith’s front. Either he aborted the pursue and pulled upwards into the reasonable direction with him sitting upright on his broom, losing the Snitch, or he could tilt Red’s tip away from his chest, spending the next portion of the flight hanging upside down, most certainly dragging himself over grass and ground painfully, with a small chance of catching the golden ball.

 

With only three feet left to react he hurled himself towards the Snitch, tipping Red and himself upside down. Fortunately he didn’t hit the ground but dragged his cloak over it, threatening to choke him. The Snitch was within reach now, and with a swift flick he opened up the fastening of his cloak, leaving it fluttering behind and scooping up the golden ball with a fistful of grass and dirt. Using the momentum of the gesture he swung himself upwards on Red, his right arm outstretched triumphantly, his broom describing a helix upwards and vibrating with excitement. Keith felt the cold rush of air hurt his teeth but he couldn’t stop grinning.

  
  
  


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Next thing he remembered was a flurry of people swarming around him in a daze of crimson and gold. Somehow he had managed to land and hand the Snitch to Acxa, before too many hands at once were clapping his shoulders and calling him crazy and reckless and marvellous. Even Lance had recovered from his anger before and was congratulating him, although he seemed a bit pale still. He barely heard Acxa telling him not celebrate too early since he’d made the team but only as a spare player. He was looking around at all the faces grinning at him, mirroring their expression. Back on the field his cape was lying lonely on the grass, a few brown and green stains visible on its surface.

 

Also, a figure with bright hair and a green scarf was approaching them with spirited steps. Keith swatted away two hands still reaching to pat him on the back and squeezed through the knot of people to meet Shiro halfway. The Slytherin was beaming at him, eyes wide with disbelief and… pride? His stomach somersaulted with ecstasy looking at the other’s face when he came to a halt right in front of him. He didn’t know how to express all the emotions wanting to burst out of him, so he just started laughing a bit manically, with Shiro chiming in after a second.

 

The team could see them, so could the spectators, but he couldn’t care less in that moment. He had laid down the first stone on his way to becoming a Quidditch player. He was part of the team. It didn’t matter if he was benched, he’d prove his worth with the same vigor as he had done just then. And Shiro was the cause of all of it. Coming down from their shared laughter he grabbed Keith’s upper arms in a supportive gesture, making him look up.

 

‘Keith, I don’t know if you’re crazy brave or just plain mad, but Merlin’s beard…’

 

Keith pressed his lips together, trying to suppress another grin without success, eyes still wide with excitement.

 

‘I made it, Shiro. I’ll play reserve. I… I don’t know how to thank you.’, he stammered, one of his hands still clutching Red, the other balled into a fist in front of his mouth to hide his stupid smirk. He couldn’t remember being this happy in his life.

 

‘Well, if I remember correctly I still owe you.’, Shiro answered, cocking his head to the side playfully. Keith raised his eyebrow, still not able to wipe the gleeful expression of his face.

 

‘I think I promised you something if you ever managed to reduce the Wronski Feint to one foot…’

  
  


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They had met up at the Astronomy tower again for some privacy. Shiro had snuck in some treats from dinner, while Keith had gotten a flask of firewhisky from Kolivan, who had reacted to the good news with a high spirited hmm. It hadn’t gotten him out of stable duty though.

 

‘I still can’t believe you pulled it off!’, Shiro said while nibbling on a purple gummy Flubberworm. Keith was amazed where he had gotten them from, they had been a Halloween-only treat as far as he knew. He also didn’t have the heart to tell him that they tasted way too intense of sugar and the different flavors, since Shiro’s eyes had lit up with glee when he had presented them to Keith again. He felt like he’d take a toy away from a kid, so he tried to blend out the spicy chocolate and put on an indifferent face.

 

‘What, you afraid I’ll catch up to you, oldtimer?’, he said, a raised eyebrow getting him a hand ruffling his hair gruffly, pushing his head down.

 

‘Pffft, even if I was that much older than you, you still wouldn’t stand a chance, whelp.’, he said, still messing up Keith’s hair.

 

‘Get your hand off me, you’re basically 50 with that hair color!’, Keith squawked, trying to fend off the Slytherin’s assault on his carefully crafted ponytail.

 

‘You dare insult my platinum silver-blonde mane?’, he asked with dramatic offense, removing the hand Keith was swatting at and clutching it at his heart.

 

‘Blonde my ass, you’re just plain old grey!’, Keith said grinning. Dork.

 

‘Joke aside,’, Shiro grinned back, ‘I’m really looking forward to your first game. I can’t wait to see what kind of life-threatening maneuver you’re going to pull off next.’

 

Keith smiled and looked down. He felt incredibly happy that he’d made the team, but both of them knew that there might be a possibility of Keith not playing at all that year. He was a reserve in case anything happened to their current Seeker, Lance. That guy was like a tumbler, getting back up on the broom no matter how badly he got injured. It would be pretty satisfactory to kick him off his high horse and take his position, but for now it was up to coincidence if Keith was ever allowed to play.

 

He had already thought about playing in a different position if any other player got injured, and even if he was sure he’d be able to play passable no matter what, being a Seeker was what he’d probably excel at. It was just him and the Snitch, he wouldn’t have to interact too much or rely on his teammates. It was the loner position, but that was what he had known all his life, what he felt comfortable with, what he knew how to handle.

 

Unless it was with Shiro.

 

Whereas other people usually made his need for solitude peak after some time, he never felt that urge with Shiro. Even if it got confusing or stressful, he’d rather stay and work through it than pull away and retreat, as he usually did it with everyone else. He sometimes caught himself looking forward to their next meetup during lessons and went over their conversations and interactions again before falling asleep. He had never had someone to talk to. He had never had a friend before.

 

It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted any, but it had always seemed overwhelming. People expected so much, social conventions were confusing and no one had ever bothered to stick around after getting gruffy answers or being rejected physical contact too often. Shiro didn’t mind. No matter how frank Keith got, how often he shrugged off the Slytherin’s hand on his shoulder, he always came back and tried again. It was as unexpected as it was refreshing, and it left Keith with a warmth in his chest he hadn’t known.

 

Speaking of warmth in his chest, the chili flavor was burning down the back of his throat, almost cancelling the chocolate taste, which Keith was actually grateful for. Gummy candy should never taste like chocolate. The brown fleshy chewed off half of his worm was wiggling in his hand pathetically. He should probably tell Shiro he didn’t like the worms. Looking up into his face while taking another bite he was met with a big grin, a lime green one writhing from the corner of his mouth before being chewed off.

 

Shiro loved these abominations of a snack.

Shiro thought that Keith loved them too.

Shiro loved that Keith loved them too.

 

Maybe he’d tell him next time, for now it was nice to see him happy, even if he had to endure this violation of his taste buds.

 

He fondly remembered their first awkward encounter when he was reminded of a question he had been wanting to ask the Slytherin for a while now.

 

‘How did you get so good at Quidditch?’

 

Even though Shiro usually evaded questions about his past, this was just Quidditch, and the mood seemed right. Or so he had thought. His stomach dropped a bit when he saw Shiro’s smile turn into something rueful. Keith couldn’t make himself regret asking, he longed to know what had happened to the other, but ruining the mood was not something he had intended.

 

He knew so little about him. Shiro was athletic, good at academics and painfully nice to everyone. But as far as backstories went, his book was filled with blank pages. Keith knew that his parents had died, probably more recently than his, but that was about it. He had to stop himself from speculating too much, from listening to the rumors that were being whispered along corridors telling stories too phantastic and painful at once.

 

It wasn’t his place to pry. And he knew how uncomfortable it was being pressed to talk about matters you didn’t want to talk about.

 

‘I… sorry I asked. I’m just…’, Keith tried, not knowing what to say to make up for spoiling the mood.

 

‘...curious.’, Shiro finished his sentence with a sigh. ‘I know Keith. Everyone is. Don’t get me wrong, I understand, but I get the same questions all the time and it really isn’t anyone’s business.’

 

He was taken aback a bit. Shiro usually wasn’t one to say things out that bluntly. It seemed people bothered him more about it than he let on. Although Keith wanted to call out, tell him that he wasn’t like everyone else, a little voice in the back of his head teased him.

 

Are you really different?

 

He didn’t know. Shiro’s eyes were locked somewhere beneath the stone floor, far away from the astronomy tower, his face telling a story of resignation and frustration. Without thinking Keith impulsively reached out a hand to touch the other’s forearm. Shiro jerked back as if he had only now noticed they were still on the little balcony, making Keith twitch and urge himself not to pull back immediately.

 

‘I’m sorry.’, Keith said, feeling the warmth seep through Shiro’s robes. ‘I didn’t want to spoil the mood. I… ‘. He let out a breath, lowering his eyes for a second or two to collect his thoughts. ‘I want to know more about you. But as you said, it’s none of my business. I won’t ask again.’

 

Shiro looked at him for a few moments, then his expression got painfully soft. He put a hand over Keith’s.

 

‘How are you like this?’’, he said, head hanging a little in defeat. Keith didn’t know what to answer, confused by the nature of Shiro’s question. The other huffed, ignoring the confused raise of his eyebrow, and raised his head again.

 

‘Okay. You get one question. If I can ask you one in return.’, the Slytherin said, gaze locked onto Keith intently. His eyes looked like mercury, reflecting both the candles and the moon simultaneously. Shiro’s hand on his was radiating and made the skin of his fingers almost burn from the alien sensation. Keith swallowed. His history was no secret, but it was painful still. On the other hand, so was Shiro’s probably. He nodded in silence, not averting his look, but pulling his hand back. Shiro smiled weakly. He nudged his head into Keith’s direction to indicate him to start.

 

Keith furrowed his brows in thought for a second before he asked.

 

‘What’s your favorite food?’

 

Shiro choked, the woeful expression turning into a humorous one.

 

‘Excuse me?’

 

‘What’s your favorite food?’

 

‘You can ask me anything and you want to know about my favorite food?’

 

Keith nodded, a cheeky smirk creeping onto his face. Shiro turned his head away, chuckling into his fist.

 

‘Unbelievable…’, he said between huffs. Then he turned towards Keith again, tension eased off his face.

 

‘Macaroni and cheese.’ His cheeks turned rosy at Keith’s disbelieving face. ‘It’s something I was never allowed to eat at home, because it’s too unhealthy. So in my first two years at Ilvermorny I almost exclusively ate Mac’n’Cheese. I turned into a chubby little kid back then. Otoo-san… I mean father was furious.’

 

Keith snorted loudly. Shiro was the buffest, tallest person he knew, except maybe for Kolivan. Picturing as an overweight child was too obscure to magine.

 

‘I don’t believe you. You’re telling me you turned into this…’, he was gesturing up and down Shiro’s frame. ‘...over the course of what… four years?’

 

‘Yeah...three years to be exact.’ Shiro looked way too smug.

 

‘No way.’, Keith chuckled, the image of a really round kid with silver hair hopping around an overly americanized copy of Hogwarts shoveling noodles not leaving his mind.

 

‘Puberty did you good.’, he said, looking over at Shiro who’s face suddenly took on the color of boiled lobster. Keith’s brain flooded his body with an overdose of endorphins at the sight. Flustered Shiro was glorious to look at, and the fact that he had caused it made the situation even better.The other cleared his throat.

 

‘My turn,’, he croaked, not looking at him directly. ‘So… how did Professor Kolivan become your guardian?’

 

Keith had expected something like that. He felt like he should regret asking something so trivial when Shiro’s question went that deep, but he didn’t. He had learned something new about him, and he’d treasure chubby Shiro for a while.

 

He thought about how to answer his question. No sugarcoating would probably be easiest.

 

‘My mother died when I was born, my father when I was eight. Kolivan took me in after, he’s an old friend of my mum’s. I lived with him in a secluded hut somewhere in Ireland until I started Hogwarts.’

 

‘Huh.’, Shiro said. He looked sympathetic. ‘I’m sorry you lost your parents. Professor Kolivan seems like a … friendly guy?’

 

‘Nice try!’, Keith huffed. ‘I know he’s a bit taciturn and intimidating.’

 

‘But when you get to know him better he’s warm and loving?’

 

‘Nope. Still just taciturn and intimidating.’, Keith said, causing them both to break out into laughter. Shiro’s stomach chimed in, rumbling into their cheerful huffs.

 

‘How are you still hungry, you’ve eaten about twenty of these!?’, Keith snorted, waving the pathetic few centimeters around that were left of his chili-chocolate worm.

 

‘You have never seen me eat, have you? These need fuel!’, Shiro said with a grin, patting his biceps lovingly. ‘I’ve taken care of dinner, as promised. It shouldn’t be very much longer.’

 

He stood up and leaned against the rail, looking out over the Forbidden Forest. Keith watched him from his place on the floor, wondering if a house elf was about to bring them their personal dinner up to the tower. Not a good idea. Although they remained fairly civil when others were around, he didn’t want to risk his meal being thrown onto the floor when Shiro had made the extra effort. He was about to warn him when the Slytherin leaned over the rail excitedly.

 

‘There they are!”

 

Keith stood up and next to him, squinting his eyes into the direction of Shiro’s outstretched finger. He made out a subtle movement a few feet above the treetops. Small black spots were coming closer, and soon he could see two bodies with wings, carrying parcels.

 

‘You didn’t…’, Keith said incredulously. Shiro only flashed him that wicked smile of his, and it made his stomach jump. It was probably the hunger. The two owls landed on the railing, placing two boxes wrapped into foil on the stone with an exhausted hoo. Keith reached out to scratch the Barn Owl on the head, still not really processing that Shiro had ordered food via owl.

 

‘I can’t believe you. How much did you pay for delivery?’, Keith asked. Shiro ignored him on purpose, tying the boxes off the owl’s feet. Before Keith could call out to him he reached for the other owl’s head to mimic Keith’s scratching, and was immediately bitten.

 

‘Ouch, what the fudge!?’, he called out, clutching his bleeding finger to his chest, while the bird was poofing up its chest in silentindignation, piercing eyes watching them.

 

‘That kind of owl doesn’t like to be touched…’, Keith tried to explain sympathetically, not completely able to suppress a sympathetic grin, earning him a disgruntled You don’t say from Shiro. The Slytherin wearily pushed a few bills into a small envelope on the bigger owls left foot, sucking on his hurt finger with scrunched eyebrows.

 

‘Let me see.’, Keith said, still amused over Shiro’s betrayed expression as the owls lifted off again.

 

‘You touched the other one, so I thought…’, he started, hissing through his teeth as Keith dabbed at the cut with the cuff of his robe.

 

‘It doesn’t look too bad, but you’ll want to close it up yourself, my healing spells always leave scars.’

 

Keith ended up closing the injury anyway, after Shiro had sheepishly admitted he couldn’t do it with his left hand. As expected, a small scar had remained on his index finger, just on the right side of the second digit, leaving Keith both guilty and a bit happy at the same time and Shiro merrily unbothered. It was silly, but him having a little mark that Keith had left made him feel weirdly glad.

 

The food they were unpacking smelled interesting as they peeled tin foil and cardboard away. Shiro had ordered them different Japanese dishes, and Keith’s heart felt very fuzzy at the thought of the Slytherin picking out foods he thought Keith might enjoy. It was another step into the other’s world, exciting and new.

 

At least that was what Keith reminded himself as he tried to fight a violent gag reflex over the giant orange salmon roe on a maki roll popping on his tongue, slimy cold goo coating his mouth. Shiro fell into a laughing fit over his misfortune, easing the feeling of ungratefulness over wanting to spit out the whole thing. He would definitely treat Shiro to one of Kolivan’s stews one day as revenge. They washed it down with Firewhisky, Shio expecting the burn this time, but coughing nevertheless.

 

The rest of the meal fortunately wasn’t as extreme, Shiro showing him how to eat Sushi and spring rolls with chopsticks as Keith lamented the lack of proper cutlery while his fingers cramped up in protest. They ate through Edamame, Soba and Tonkatsu, Shiro explaining every dish to him and reminiscing about his mother's cooking, and how westerners could never get the flavor quite right.

 

They had been sitting leaned against the railing again after finishing every last bit of it, Keith astonished over the sheer amount of food Shiro had shoveled into his mouth. The empty cartons were strewn on the floor before the. Keith had taken out his phone, the headphones lying on their conjoined shoulders on the loudest volume. The sound quality was really shitty like that, but neither of them minded as they were listening to some of Keith’s favorite artists. His taste in music was on the melancholic side mostly, but Shiro didn’t seem to mind. They had grown silent after a few songs, lost in their own thoughts, enjoying the others company and warmth as they were sitting leaned against each other.

 

‘I miss them.’, Shiro suddenly said into their shared silence. His voice sounded painfully heavy. Keith kept looking straight ahead.

 

‘I know.’, was all he said. He truly did.


	13. Manus qui parce seminat

November flew by far to quickly. There was a lot to do, and besides homework assignments and tests Keith tried to juggle helping out Kolivan on the weekends, Quidditch training with the Gryffindors and his one-on-one trainings and study sessions with Shiro. Everyday he fell into bed with tired bones and an exhausted brain, a feeling of purpose blooming somewhere within him.

 

His only prospect had always been finishing Hogwarts. He hadn’t even really thought far beyond that, maybe he’d ask Kolivan to become his apprentice or get a possibly low paying job at the Ministry of Magic. He’d considered working a Muggle job, but he hadn’t had much contact with the Muggleworld for almost ten years now.

 

Meeting Shiro and making it into the team had radically changed his outlook. Although he didn’t dare dream too much, he had started considering the possibility of a career in professional Quidditch. Even if it was pretty unlikely, he allowed himself this little slip of hope.

 

He knew he was good. Although he hadn’t had the opportunity to play a match yet, the first few trainings had been beyond successful, Acxa and his teammates praising him to an extent that was on the verge of overwhelming. In return he learned a lot about teamwork, different strategies while flying and how to counter them. Even if his teammates sometimes annoyed him and he usually needed some time alone or with Kolivan’s animals afterwards, he left the trainings dead tired and content. Especially Acxa, who had turned out to be an incredibly skilled leader, had earned Keith’s respect and maybe even a bit of admiration.

 

Another thing he had noticed was the increased stamina and strength he had started to develop since training that intensely multiple times a week. What also helped was that he had started to join Shiro’s early-morning workouts from time to time. After the first session Keith had found muscles burning in his body he hadn’t known existed before, rendering him almost immobile for the next two days and earning him sympathetic laughter from Shiro. He liked the kind of pain, it made him feel alive and accomplished, as if he had earned it. Fortunately it got better with every time they trained.

 

In addition, the training had a pleasant side effect.

 

Keith had never given much thought about his looks. He had been cutting his hair himself since his father had died and the clothes he wore were the most comfortable selection of the accepted uniform choices consisting of black jeans, a white dress shirt and a crimson hoodie with a lion enamel pin. Lance was probably the most stylish one in their year, amping up the uniform with varieties of leather bracelets, belts and pins, smearing different creams onto his face every night and plucking his eyebrows into shape. After the Quidditch trainings he would strut around the changing room like a peacock, showing off every pathetic new milimeter of muscle that had surfaced.

 

Keith had usually rolled his eyes and paid him no attention, but inspecting his torso in the mirror after three weeks of intense training, he felt a small bit of pride flush onto his face when he saw something resembling a six pack and pecks emerging from his torso. He had always been skinny, but never muscular, and he understood now why some people worked their bodies so much. He felt a little proud, although admitting it to anyone else than himself was out of the question.

 

When he had thought he was close to dying at one point during their early trainings he had asked Shiro why he worked out that much. Shiro in his uniform looked broad, but with a tight training outfit Keith got truly aware how buff the Slytherin really was. Even though he was only about half a head taller than Keith he weighed almost 80 pounds more than him. And that didn’t include a gram of fat.

 

‘I just like how it feels.’, Shiro had answered, ushering Keith through the last set of pull ups. He was evading the question, and Keith didn’t pry further. Also, he hadn’t been able to pull his own shirt over his head the day after.

  
  
  


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The first snow was falling down in soft flakes, the ground not cold enough yet to keep it frozen. Keith was watching them through the stained glass windows of the library, looking for anything to keep him distracted from the oncoming match. His first game would be that afternoon, and even if he wasn’t sure he’d even get to play, he couldn’t really concentrate on Golpalott’s Third Law. Not even the Half-blood Prince’s potion book Pidge had given him had a satisfying explanation on how to apply it, making him feel stuck and getting distracted. A groan from Shiro pulled his mind from the Quidditch field and back into the dimly lit room. It was a gloomy day and the cozy candle light didn’t really help his concentration.

 

‘I have no idea how to apply this freaking law.’, Shiro said, rubbing his eyes with his index finger and thumb.

 

‘Take a break?’, Keith suggested. The other looked at him in faint desperation, barely catching the little item wrapped in purple foil Keith tossed him. Over the last weeks he had found out that Shiro not only loved junk food like Mac’n’Cheese, but generally had a real sweet tooth, so he had started sneaking treats from the dinners to their study sessions. He didn’t know if the sugar intake improved Shiro’s ability to concentrate, but it definitely boosted his morale.

 

He felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as Shiro popped the chocolate into his mouth with a raised eyebrow.

 

‘You are too good at distracting me from my agony.’, he said with a resigning chuckle. Keith returned the smile. Shiro was looking down at the potions book again, so he let his gaze wander back out into the snowy clouds.

 

‘The match?’, Shiro asked after some time.

 

‘Hm?’

 

‘You’re thinking about the match, right? You’ve been more distracted than usual.’

 

Keith had the immediate urge to deny it, but couldn’t find a reason why. It was Shiro. Things were easy to talk about with Shiro.

 

‘Kinda.’, he said. ‘I’m not nervous, but… I don’t know.’

 

‘It’s normal. You’re gonna be fine, no matter if you get to play or not.’, the Slytherin said and put a hand on Keith’s arm.

 

‘I know.’, Keith sighed, enjoying the warmth seeping through the sleeve of his hoodie. He had trained to play different roles since he was playing reserve so he could tag in if any other player got injured or suspended, but except Lance everyone had agreed his talent was being a Seeker. It was all he wanted to be. Shiro squeezed his arm, bringing him back again. Maybe he should put his hand over the other’s, just as Shiro had done it a few weeks back on the Astronomy Tower. He didn’t know if it was appropriate at that exact moment, or when it was appropriate generally. If it didn’t involve fists, touching others was still something new. Finding his thoughts drift off again, he pulled back his arm.

 

‘Sorry…’, Keith said. ‘We should get back to Golpalott and his goddamn law.’

 

The other looked at him, the impish expression in his eyes telling Keith he had other plans.

 

‘I got a better idea. Come on.’, the Slytherin said to him, packing his book and notes into his backpack and gesturing Keith to follow him. He did with an amused eye roll.

  
  
  


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They had been sitting on the bleachers huddled together for an hour when the first players arrived. Shiro had taken him for a quick run and then down to the Quidditch field, bags packed with water, a few energy bars and Keith’s phone. They had conjured up a small fire dancing in the air in front of them, warming their faces and fingers. Keith had tried some breathing exercises Shiro had showed him to calm down nerves, and even if he felt a little silly it had helped his nerves. Until now.

 

‘I should go down.’, Keith said, putting the headphones and cell into his bag. He found an arm around his shoulders, squeezing him into the others side briefly.

 

‘Break a leg.’, Shiro said, flashing him a grin. ‘I’ll be cheering for you.’

 

‘Even if I’m on the bench for the whole match?’, Keith replied, pushing the other away playfully and starting to walk down the steps.

 

‘Especially then!’, Shiro called after him. Keith only shook his head in amusement. Acxa, Veronica and Rachel were the first ones to arrive, heading towards the girl’s changing rooms, waving a hand from the distance to greet him. He lifted his in response, descending down the bleachers to get into his quidditch dress. Rollo and Lance barged in when he was almost done.

 

‘Yooo, mullet, got the jitters?’, Lance called out towards him.

 

‘I have a name. Get it into your pea-brain.’, Keith said as he went towards the door, shrugging on the crimson cape he thought very distracting and unnecessary. It was part of the official uniform, but he still hated it. Flying might look more spectacular with the capes fluttering about, but the danger of it restricting your sight or getting caught somewhere wasn’t worth the risk in his opinion.

 

‘Hey, come on, man. Don’t be like that.’, Rollo said, bumping his shoulder with a fist as he passed him. Keith came to a halt and turned his head a bit to look back at Lance who had already taken a big breath to counter the _pea-brain_.

 

‘Break a leg, Lance.’

 

He turned around, leaving the two other boys behind, still hearing Lance contemplating if he had meant it literally. He had. Lance breaking something, anything really, would be the best case scenario for him. A guy could hope.

  
  
  


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The match had been going on for almost two hours. Keith was freezing on the bench, losing his focus due the rattling of his teeth. The bleachers, filled to burst with students, were magically heated and must feel cozy from what he could see. The houses mostly kept to the seats in their house-colors, but you could see some colorful scarves in between where friends who didn’t care about the rivalries had gathered. Many were wiggling little crimson or yellow flags to cheer on the team in their favor, and some crazy students were even wearing handcrafted badger- or lionheads.

 

The bench Keith was sitting on had taken on arctic temperatures, at least that’s what it felt like. He wanted to conjure up a small fire like Shiro had done a few hours before, but wands were not allowed on the field, so he just had to suck it up. He was at a point where he just wanted any of the Seekers to catch the goddamn Snitch so he could defrost himself.

 

The Hufflepuff’s Seeker was pretty young, a 5th year with red hair. He let himself be distracted by Lance far too easily, who was what seemed to be goofing off above the other players, flying somersaults and spirals. Keith didn’t want to insinuate that Lance’s head wasn’t as much in the game as it should, but that was exactly what it looked like. He was more focused on his little tricks than on actually looking for the Snitch.

 

There had been two instances already when one or the other Seeker had started a sudden nosedive for the Snitch, but both times they had either lost it or were distracted by Bludgers and other players.

 

Another problem was the sheer predominance of the Hufflepuffs. Their hunters were flying formations flawlessly while Hunk and his fellow Beater blasted the bludgers around like cannonballs, never hitting one of their own. Their only weak link was their Keeper, but the Gryffindor hunters rarely made it through to him. The score was 120 to 50 for Hufflepuff. It looked a bit dire.

 

A sudden movement by the other Seeker caught Keith’s attention. Apparently he had spotted the Snitch again, speeding towards the Hufflepuff’s side of the bleachers, whose spectators started cheering savagely. Lance followed behind shortly. They were racing one after the other, Lance following the younger Seeker who was following the Snitch. On the announcer’s tribune Professor Bi-Boh-Bi was shouting an excited _BOOOOOOOOO_ into the megaphone, causing more chaotic cheers for both parties.

 

Keith could see the little golden ball darting down over the grass, gettin closer into Lance’s reach. Before he could grab him though, a Bludger bolted towards him, making Lance pulling his broom up left with a panicked look at the last possible second, causing the Hufflepuff Seeker to crash into him full speed. The noise was agonizing, Keith was able to hear the crack of something he didn’t need to find out about while both Seekers tumbled down about 5 feet onto the ground in a flurry of their yellow and red capes.

 

Professor Hira whistled for a break, while nurse Sven and Professor Ryner hurried over to the heap of fabric, limbs and groans. Keith’s eyes darted to Acxa immediately, who found his gaze and gestured him to stay calm and wait.

 

Five minutes later their team was hurried around the Gryffindor’s captain in a circle.

 

‘Lance is out. Bandor crashed into the back of his head with his forehead, and he’s unconscious and probably will be the rest of the day. We have a choice now. Professor Hira would admit Kogane to the game, since Lance’s dropout was kind of a foul. Our choices are to play on without any Seeker on both sides for 30 more minutes or let Kogane play until the Snitch is caught.’

 

‘That’s not really a choice now, is it?’, Rollo chimed. ‘They’re eating us alive out there. We need to get the Snitch to get out of this one. What about Bandor?’

 

‘He’s a little dizzy, but he can play on. Foreheads are way more sturdy than the back.’, Acxa answered. ‘So, everyone in on Kogane playing for Lance?’

 

The others uttered affirmative sounds, joining their hands into the middle. Keith hesitantly put his on top, searching Acxa’s eyes. She winked at him encouragingly.

 

‘Who we flying for?!’, she called into the circle.

 

‘GRYFFINDOR’, they shouted back, pushing their hands up into the air, mounting their brooms while their captain flew over to Hira to tell her their decision. Keith was ascending into the air, almost not believing that he could actually play in that game. Beneath him Red felt as excited as him. From the corner of his eyes he could see nurse Sven levitating a stretcher covered with a shiny blanket towards the castle. He felt a little bad for Lance, hoping he didn’t actually break his skull. Keith might never hear the end of it after his comment in the changing room.

 

‘BI BOOOOOOOO!’, Professor Bi-Boh-Bi shouted as Hira whistled and released the Quaffle anew. Keith took a look at Bandor who had recovered quickly from the collision and was circling the field above him.

 

He felt tempted to look for a head of silver hair in the emerald sea of bleachers below them, but resisted. He needed to concentrate, this was his chance to prove he was the better choice for the team. He let his gaze wander over the field section by section, looking for a small glimpse of gold or a flutter of delicate wings.

 

The snow had stopped fortunately, only a bone rattling, damp cold had remained, making the ground muddy and the clouds grey. Up in the air the adrenaline started to warm up Keith’s frozen body little by little, and he flew a few muscle-straining moves to reheat himself. That was probably what Lance had been doing, it was even colder high up in the air with the wind flaunting around him, whipping his cape back and forth around him. He felt almost bad for presuming Lance had just been aloof up there. Almost.

 

Below him the Hufflepuffs continued to score, their hunters refusing to let their wall of defense be breached. He kept an eye on the Bludgers and Bandor while scanning the bleachers and flagpoles. Usually it didn’t take him all too long to spot the Snitch, but the tiny ball was nowhere to be seen. Until he looked up again at the Hufflepuff Seeker.

 

Right there in his line of view, about ten feet above Bandor, the Snitch was scurrying around merrily. Not wanting Bandor to discover the little golden ball and potentially reach it before him Keith started a quick descent towards the announcer’s lounge, making the other Seeker follow his movement with peaked curiosity. Keith used the momentum he got to corner sharply, urging Red into a rise simultaneously and passing a surprised Bandor, who was still moving towards Keith and the lounge.

 

The Snitch had already brought some distance between them, now fluttering down over the Ravenclaw bleachers left and right, abruptly dipping down before reaching the Slytherin part of the spectator’s seats. Keith followed it down, Bandor behind him with a little distance, apparently still weary from his collision with Lance. The Snitch decided to make its way through the playing field, where Keith had to take a sharp corner to evade one of Hunk’s high speed Bludgers. He was weaving his way over and under the other players of his team who tried wholeheartedly to get out of his way, while the Hufflepuffs almost managed to make him lose the Snitch by flying into his line of vision or blocking him.

 

He stretched out his hand, fingers only inches from the fluttering wings. The second he sent the order to his fingers to lurch forward and grab it something collided with him from the side. It was not too bad, Red counteracted the force with a swivel into the opposite direction, but it still threw him off course. One of the Hufflepuff players must have tackled him. He was kind of expecting Professor Hira to whistle a foul, but wasn’t really surprised when nothing happened. He had known from the start she would make his life harder if he ever got to play for the team. It wasn’t over though, he still was closer to the Snitch than Bandor, and the ball was heading out of the way too crowded middle part of the field.

 

The next seconds felt like an eternity when Keith would go over them later. Out of his focus, he could see a black Bludger heading towards Rollo who was hanging in the air in front of him, his bat raised in anticipation of the collision. What Rollo didn’t see was the Snitch heading directly towards them from the side as well. Before Keith could call out to him, he had already started swinging the bat, only noticing the little golden ball unintentionally flying into it when it was too late to stop the movement. He smacked it, catapulting then Snitch directly into Keith’s chest and ricocheting into his open hand before the Bludger hit Rolo and threw the Gryffindor’s surprised Beater off his broom.

 

There he was, a sorry Snitch with a twisted wing fluttering pathetically in his hand, not sure what to do. Professor Hira’s whistle shrilled over the field, the audience erupting into confused screams. The two teams gathered next to Rollo, who had been hit into the stomach and was bent over, supported by Nyma, retching on the ground. Keith tried to ignore the sickening sound as he landed next to Acxa, not sure how to feel. The other players were discussing the rules, if Rollo hitting the Snitch counted as a breach of rules or not.

 

‘As far as I am informed, the newly updated rules say nothing against another player interacting with the Golden Snitch as long as they are not actively pursuing or catching it.’, Hira spoke up. ‘This would make Gryffindor the winner of this game with a final score of 210 against 190!’

 

Keith’s stomach turned. She was wrong. He had to tell them.

 

Neither of the possibilities before him were tempting, but he had no choice in this though. The Gryffindor Team started cheering already, when Keith spoke up.

 

‘Professor, it _is_ against the rules.’

 

She eyed him with disdain, both teams interrupting their cheer and woe with incredulous looks and gasps.

 

‘Speak up, Kogane. You think you know the rules better than me?’, Hira taunted him with cold eyes and patronizing voice.

 

‘No, Professor. It is ... an exceptional rule. It basically never happens. Beaters are allowed to hit the Quaffle with their bat but not the Snitch.’, Keith tried to explain as briefly as possible. He didn’t want to get into any more trouble than he already had with Professor Hira. His teammates uttered silent curses while the Hufflepuffs looked at them wide eyed, not believing what they heard. The spectators on the bleachers were calming down a bit, so they could hear Professor Bi-Boh-Bi chattering something illegible into his megaphone.

 

In hindsight Keith should have just kept his mouth shut.

  
  
  


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He had been right. Unfortunately. Professor Hira had looked up the rules in a conjured Quidditch handbook, declaring Hufflepuff the winner. While the bleachers had bursted into screams of glee and protest, his own team muttered inaudible sentences in a mix of support and disdain.

 

‘You did the right thing.’, Acxa said to him on their way back to the changing rooms. ‘I think it says a lot about you, even if not everyone agrees right now. They are disappointed, and rightfully so. Losing is always hard.’

 

Keith didn’t answer. He had cost them their victory, at least that’s what Rollo, Nyma and Luca were thinking. Acxa had quickly shut them up, but the mood was sour. He sighed. They reached the doors.

 

‘We should get changed and warmed up again. Usually we hang out in the Great Hall after matches, the house elves prepare something for the players. You should come.’ Keith pressed his lips together.

 

‘Okay. See you there maybe.’

 

Definitely not. He had a feeling his teammates didn’t want to see him right now, and neither did he. His hand was already on the handle when Acxa spoke again.

 

‘You made an impression today. On everyone.’

 

When he turned his head he found her watching him, a corner of her mouth raised, head cocked back. He lifted his eyebrows. The word impression had too many implications to guess which one she meant, but he also didn’t feel like asking, so he just pressed his lips together and entered the room. Rollo was already waiting for him


	14. Edentulae

‘THIS IS A DISGRACE FOR THE HOUSE GRYFFINDOR!!! I WOULD HAVE THOUGHT MORE OF STUDENTS REPRESENTING OUR VALUES!!! THIS IS NEITHER COURAGEOUS NOR DOES IT PROVE NERVE OR CHIVALRY!’

 

Professor Iverson’s face had turned dark red by now, his one good eye darting back and forth between them and finally scrunching it closed under a furrowed eyebrow. He was standing behind a large oak desk, arms gesturing violently, packs of homework assignments stacked neatly to his sides. Professor Iverson finally sat down after what must have been about thirty minutes of screamed lecturing, one of his hands tapping a nervous staccato into the surface of the table.

 

‘I don’t even know why I’m surprised anymore, Kogane. You’re scratching on the Weasley’s record of deducted points, and that’s an accomplishment on itself.’

 

Keith didn’t answer, pressing a bloodied cloth against his mouth. He almost knew the Gryffindor’s house teacher’s office by heart at that point, having spent hours upon hours of detention and being berated about his temper and behaviour.

 

‘I would have expected more team spirit of both of you. You’re banned from flying for two weeks. Your team captain will handle the rest of the punishment.’ He looked over at Acxa, who had been standing at the door in silence. She looked furious.

 

‘And one more thing. 25 points from Gryffindor.’

 

‘Sir!’, Rollo blurted out.

 

‘FOR EACH OF YOU!’, Iverson shouted. ‘Out. Now. I don’t want to see you anymore.’

 

They shuffled out of the office after Acxa, leaving Professor Iverson slumped at his desk with a heavy sight, murmuring _I’m getting too old for this stuff_. When they were out of hearing distance Acxa stopped abruptly, turned around and smashed her hand into the wall next to Rollo, trapping him against it. Keith flinched, having never seen the older girl look that enraged.

 

‘What were you thinking, you moron?!?’, she hissed at him, teeth clenched together.

 

‘I didn’t…’, Rollo started, but she cut him off, slamming her second hand to his other side.

 

‘Don’t try me, Rollo. I know your loose tongue, and your face tells it all. Was it worth it?’, she sneered at him with a calm that was more frightening than if she had yelled. Rollo looked as if he was about to reply anything, but decided otherwise and let out a huff.

 

‘I’m sorry, Acxa. I got frustrated. We would have won.’

 

She looked him up and down. Acxa was about half a head smaller than Rollo, but Keith still had the feeling as if she towered over him. She was truly impressive. And a bit scary.

 

‘It would have been revoked. They’d have looked it up eventually. I’d rather lose right away than have the victory taken away after celebrating.’

 

Her face softened a bit. She pushed at his jaw, making him lean to the left. His right eye was swollen and had started to darken in the area close to the nose.

 

‘Looks like your eye will turn black. Good, take it as a reminder. Now get a shower and an ice pack. You’ll be at the training tomorrow, sorting through and cleaning the equipment.’

 

She stepped back, letting her hands fall to her sides and watched Rollo walk away like a beaten dog. Keith almost started feeling sorry for him, until he tongued at the gap between his front teeth still bleeding into his mouth, quickly pressing the cloth over it again. He flinched anew when Acxa whirled around to glare him into the ground.

 

‘And you.’, she hissed. ‘I’ve made an exception for you, because Shirogane vouched for you. Don’t get me wrong, you’re the most skilled flyer we’ve had for a while now, but don’t think I won’t kick you out without a second thought if you ever pull anything like this again.’

 

He held her gaze and tried to look as dignified as possible with the bloody rag held to his mouth. He had nothing to say for himself since he had thrown the first punch. Rollo had started calling him names in the changing rooms, provoking and taunting him about costing them the victory and him not deserving to be on the team. What had pushed Keith over the edge though was when he had started bad-mouthing Shiro. Rollo’s nose was already bleeding while Keith spit out blood and a front tooth, wiping over his split upper lip, when Acxa had burst in with Iverson, separating the two forcefully.

 

‘I know your reputation. I don’t want to let it affect my image of you, but right now you’re making it hard for me not to. Just… show me I didn’t make a mistake by letting you onto the team.’

 

She was still staring at him angrily. It was a weird situation, being scolded by someone who was only about a year older than him. He knew she was right. He had almost blown  the unique chance he was given. He was mostly angry at himself for letting himself be taunted like that, knowing well that Rollo had been talking out of spite and disappointment. Resigning to his stupidity he nodded with a sigh.

 

‘Yeth, Acxa.’, he said, the gap in his teeth slurring his speech.

 

‘And Merlin’s beard, get yourself into the infirmary. Do you need me to walk you there?’

 

He shook his head. She had turned around and was already at the end of the corridor when he called after her.

 

‘Thank you.’

 

She stopped for a short moment, not turning around, before she replied.

 

‘Don’t mess it up, Kogane.’

  
  


……………………………………………….

  
  
  


‘Yoohoo, boy, long time see!’

 

Nurse Sven’s bright face was unnerving and endearing as always. Keith had strolled into the infirmary hesitantly, dreading the treatment. He had already needed to regrow a tooth once, and it had been a scrutinizingly painful experience. Although he had been a lot younger then, the memory of it was still embedded in his mind.

 

Over his years of brawls and black eyes he had gotten accustomed to a few places in Hogwarts normal students usually wouldn’t frequent that often, including various teacher’s offices and the infirmary. He knew Sven not only from his fairly regular visits to the hospital ward, but also because he was friendly with Kolivan and helped them out whenever he had the time.

 

Watching the two men interact had been Keith’s main source of entertainment beside listening to music or sketching random animals. Sven usually cracked cheesy jokes and chattered without so much as short breaks for breathing while Kolivan was barely acknowledging his existence with nods and _hmm_ s.

 

‘Hey, Thven.’, Keith said, immediately scrunching his eyebrows over the new gush of blood coating his tongue. The taste made him want to throw up.

 

‘Goodness, what happened after I left the game? Let me look at you!’, Sven said with a worried expression, hurrying over to him and grabbing him by the jaw. Keith reluctantly removed the cloth while Sven turned his head into different directions to get a good look at Keith’s lip and tooth gap.

 

‘Oh boy, oh boy, who did you beat up this time?’, Sven asked absentmindedly, already reaching for gauze and dabbing at his lip.

 

‘Do you thee thith?’, Keith pointed at his face. ‘I wath the one who got beaten up. Ouch!’

 

‘Stop talking, dear, and press that on your gum.’, Sven said merrily, handing him a fresh piece of gauze.

 

‘ _You_ were athking quethtionth…’, Keith scowled, doing as he was asked. Sven ushered him into the room with the hospital beds. Most were empty except one at the entrance of the room that was hidden by a screen. He sat down on the one next to it, trying to suppress the urge to suck at the gauze. Sven was scurrying around gathering a few pots and bottles.

 

‘You know the procedure, boy. Bottoms up!’, Sven cheered, handing him a bottle with a syrupy liquid in a burgundy color. He knew that one, it was filled with nutrients to support the healing process over the next fifteen to twenty hours. He wouldn’t be allowed to eat or drink, so he savoured the taste of berries running down his throat, ignoring the coppery after his open wound caused.

 

The next one he didn’t look forward to. It was a big bottle filled with a pearlescent liquid, the lid molded into the shape of a tooth. The label said _Denta-grow_ , and made lost teeth regrow overnight. Keith hoped he’d get the sleeping draught as well, because he still remembered the pain from last time, and didn’t really feel up to another night of his jaw deforming under stinging cramps.

 

The potion burned as it followed the supplement down into his stomach, the sting distracting him from his throbbing lip. Sven was already dabbing an ointment on it before murmuring a silent spell that made the tissue knit back together. Outside the sun had already started setting, making the sky turn from grey into a deep purple. Keith let his shoulders slouch. There was another person he needed to talk to as soon as his face had returned to a slightly more orderly state, and he didn’t particularly look forward to it. It had been hanging over him like a dark cloud dampening his mood even further.

 

‘Thven… can I have thomething to thleep?’, he asked in a silent voice, when the nurse had finished up his face and stood up again. Sven smiled down at him.

 

‘Sure, dear.’

  
  


…………………………………………….

  
  
  


He found himself sitting up straight, horror clasping a cold claw into his back, making the hairs on his neck stand up straight and his heart beat against his chest. It was dark outside, the moon throwing eerie shadows into the room, painting everything silver and dark blue.

 

He looked around in panic and took a few seconds to remember where he was. The realisation brought back the memory of the day before, along with a scrutinizing sting where his new tooth was regrowing. Not daring to touch it with his tongue yet he let out a frustrated groan. He fought the urge to press a hand onto his mouth, knowing well enough it would only make the pain worse. At least the sleeping draught was dulling out all of his senses, seducing his eyelids to lower back down. Still the dreadful sensation was not leaving him. Maybe he had had a nightmare he didn’t remember.

 

A movement from the door caught his attention.

 

‘Sven?’ He threw his feet over the edge of the bed, not able to appreciate being able to pronounce his _s’_ over the vertigo that caught him. He swayed a bit, his spine not wanting to cooperate fully to hold him upright. He had to lean back on his elbows, squinting towards the door. The shadows moved, and he saw a familiar hair of silver as the intruder passed a spot illuminated through the window. He looked almost surreal.

 

‘Shiro? What … how did you get up here?’

 

Shiro looked at him with an alien expression on his face as he stepped towards him slowly. Keith watched him warily. He was happy to see the Slytherin, but there were too many things not fitting into the picture to enjoy it. Shiro stopped next to the bed, raking him up and down with a look in his eyes Keith couldn’t read. He felt uneasy. What increased his discomfort, in addition to the pain and Shiro’s unexpected appearance, was the lingering feeling he had let him down.

 

Shiro had given him this opportunity to be a Quidditch player, and he had completely screwed it up.

 

He felt the bed dip down next to him. Keith hadn’t even noticed he had closed his eyes, the draught still urging his body back to sleep. Shiro had sat down beside him, his eyes still wandering over Keith. The Slytherin’s gaze felt penetrating, and it was spurring his drive to run away. Not that he would have been able to.

 

Warmth against his cheek startled him. His eyes had dropped close again unnoticed. Shiro was thumbing over the spot on his lip where the cut had been, the skin under his finger still sensitive. The feeling of a foreign hand on his face would have been overwhelming in any other situation, but the mixture of pain and exhaustion made his neck give out and drop his cheek into the Slytherin’s palm sideways.

 

Warm.

 

Soft.

 

The darkness creeping in from the edges of his consciousness was welcome, and he barely managed a whispered _Sorry_ before he felt himself drift away again.

  
  
  


…………………………………………

  
  
  


When he woke up he was lying under his blanket, tooth regrown and too many questions running through his head. The sun was already up high, and he could hear Sven whistling merrily to himself in the antechamber. Trying to sit up he suddenly felt like a sledgehammer had hit him in the mouth. A groan escaped him again as he let himself fall back into the pillow.

 

‘Mullet, that you?’, he heard a voice call out from behind the screen. Merlin help him.

 

‘Mhm.’ Keith couldn’t muster up the strength to talk loudly, and draped an arm over his eyes. The light was making his head hurt.

 

‘I knew that groan. Damn, if you’re in here I guess we lost?’

 

‘Mhm.’, Keith hummed again. He hoped Sven would come to his salvation with some painkillers, but the whistling from outside didn’t cease.

 

‘Damn.’, Lance said. ‘I don’t even remember what happened. I was racing after the Snitch, and the next thing I know is I wake up in here. They said I had a cracked skull, wild huh? I hope the other guy at least has a broken nose or a shiner. Hey mullet, you were actually right, I broke something. Irony, huh? Why are you here anyway?’

 

Keith wished Rollo had beaten him unconscious. How could one person talk so much in so little time. His stomach rumbled loudly into the expectant silence, making Lance giggle.

 

‘Mood.’, he said. Keith just rolled his eyes under closed lids.

 

‘Rollo knocked out one of my teeth.’

 

He got a whistle as an answer.

 

‘Holy hell, did you talk bad about his earring? He’s sensitive about that… Wait, did he beat you _during_ the match?!?’

 

Keith groaned again. This was his language now. Groans. They expressed perfectly what he wanted to convey. Sven walked in with a tray, sparing him the need to answer.

 

‘Yoohoo, you look like you’re in a good mood!’, he winked at Keith who had lifted his arm a few centimeters off his eyes to see if he’d get any painkillers, letting it fall back when Sven walked behind the screen separating Lance’s bed from his. They were talking about Lance’s injury and aftercare, and Keith let himself drift back into a doze. His mind wandered over the events of the previous day. The freezing cold, flying his first match, disappointing everyone with the truth, the fight with Rollo.

 

He almost sat up when he remembered.

 

Shiro had been there. At least that’s what he thought. The whole memory felt as if it was coated over with a blurry filter, probably caused by the sleeping potion. Every piece of memory hinted towards the fact that he had dreamt it all up. Keith removed the arm from over his eyes and touched his cheek. He could still recall the feeling of Shiro’s hand cupping his face.

 

‘Hey, Sven.’, he called out.

 

‘What do you need, dear?’, the nurse called back from behind the screen.

 

‘You’d notice if anyone went into the infirmary at night.’ It was more of a statement than a question.

 

‘Of course, there are a few notification spells around the staircase and entrance. I need to keep a good eye on you,’, he chimed. ‘All good. I’d say you stay until the potion wears off, shouldn’t be more than half an hour!’

 

‘You mean me?’, Keith said hopefully.

 

‘Ooooh, sorry, dear.’ Sven was folding back the screen, a silver platter with glass bottles and tin tiles in his hand.

 

‘I need to see you eat lunch in a bit to check on your tooth. You should be out by noon.’, he said with a sympathetic smile while walking out of the room.

 

Keith vocalized his frustration, throwing his arm back over his face.

 

‘See the positive side, mullet, you’ll probably get my position now.’, Lance said unconvincingly cheerful. Then his face sank a bit.

 

‘I know you fly better than me. Have from the beginning. I… I just hoped you’d fuck it up somehow.’

 

‘I did.’, Keith answered, surprising himself. He should think before talking, but his brain refused to comply after everything that had been going on. He could feel Lance’s look at him in confusion.

 

‘I punched Rollo first. He was… a real ass about some things. Acxa is furious with us.’

 

‘Oh dang.’, he heard Lance say. ‘So I’m still the Seeker, is what you’re saying?’

 

‘I doubt she’ll replace you with me after the fight. I’m lucky if she keeps me.’

 

‘I’m sorry, mullet.’, Lance said.

 

‘You really aren’t.’, Keith answered, his mind already automatically blocking out the slur against his hairstyle. He removed his hand to look over at Lance. Except for the fresh bandage around his head he looked as always, grinning stupidly back at him. He really was like one of those tumbler toys.

 

‘Got me. I’ve always wanted to be a Quidditch player. Losing it to you now would just suck balls.’, he laughed. ‘I always wanted to be a hunter, but you’ve seen my sisters with Acxa, they’re beasts. No chance of getting in there.’

 

Sisters. He hadn’t thought about it too much, but now he noticed the resemblance. Veronica and Rachel both had Lance’s skin complexion and eyes, even if they were a lot more agreeable character wise.

 

‘All of my siblings have been Quidditch players, you know? And all of them were Gryffindors. I’m the youngest one, so everyone had unobtainable expectations. You don’t know how it is when everyone compares you to your siblings. It’s. The. Worst.’

 

Keith had already felt his mind drift away again. Lance kept on blabbering about his family for a bit, asking a question from time to time that Keith either ignored or replied to with groans and _mhm_ s. He startled when Lance suddenly called out.

 

‘HUNK! BUDDY! You came!!!’

 

He turned his head to see the big Hufflepuff guy strut into the hospital room with bouncy steps, a tray in his hand and a grin on his face. How were people so cheerful all the time.

 

‘Two Gryffindor players incapacitated, I’d say we had a successful match.’, Hunk said, winking over at him. ‘Hey, Keith!’

 

‘Mmmh.’, Keith groaned back, letting this hand slip back over his eyes. The smell hit him almost instantly. Hunk had brought something that made the whole room smell like a mixture of freshly baked croissants and molten chocolate. His stomach was starting an audible civil war at the sweet aroma which earned him a laugh from Hunk and Lance.

 

‘Sorry, buddy, Sven said no food for you yet.’, Hunk said with a sympathetic smile. Keith turned over to face away from all the positivity and temptation. He didn’t need to watch Lance devour all the wonderful things he wasn’t allowed to have.

  
  
  


………………………………………………….

  
  
  
  


In the end Hunk and Lance had stayed a bit longer, even after Lance had been given the okay to go. They’d sat around Keith’s bed when the topic returned to the Gryffindor team’s positions and the match, analyzing maneuvers and the two incidents, and even though Keith hadn’t felt like participating in the conversation initially he had found himself chiming in at the discussion about Bandor’s and Lance’s strategies when spotting the Snitch. Before he knew Sven was coming over with assorted foods of different texture and density to test his new tooth, shooing the other two out. If he noticed Keith had secretly munched one of Hunk’s delicious cookies, he didn’t let it show.

 

Keith liked Hunk. He had noticed during their talk. The Beater had a friendly nature, and against Keith’s primary impression he was quite intelligent. His opinions on the game’s course had given him insights he hadn’t considered before and had made him want to inquire and discuss more. Even Lance had been unnaturally agreeable with Hunk next to him. He still talked a lot more than necessary, but the forced jokes and provocative behaviour had been gone.

 

Maybe Lance was someone who constantly needed to impress, Keith thought. Having a lot of older siblings must put some kind of pressure on you, and if you weren’t outstanding in either academics or athletics, you probably needed to fake your way through it with fabricated charme and humor. He wouldn’t know.

 

What he knew though was that sitting together with the two other Quidditch players didn’t leave him exhausted and longing for solitude as other conversations usually would.

 

The fact that he had spent the whole way from the infirmary to the dorms thinking about Hunk and especially Lance made him snort, earning him an _Excuse you?_ from an indignant painting next to him. Maybe he could get used to Lance. He’d need to stand him during trainings anyway, so he might as well try to put a bit of effort into it.

 

Maybe.

 

The Fat Lady’s painting was already in sight when he changed his mind and turned around. Heading towards the library he shook his head in amused disbelief. He actually wanted more company. Maybe _he_ would be there.

 

It felt nice.


	15. Apud Nivem

‘You need to tell me what you are doing!’

 

‘I don’t need to do anything.’

 

‘This ring means a lot to me. More than you can imagine.’

 

Keith was walking up and down the room, wooden floorboards creaking beneath his steps. Through the window the Hogwarts grounds had turned into a winter wonderland, snow piling on the frozen ground. They had been snowed in overnight, and he could see Kolivan as a small dark spot in the distance, trying to hex a way through it from his hut to the castle.

 

Keith had found Pidge in the bell tower after texting him via parchment. Waking up after a nightmare he couldn’t really remember he had clutched at his chest in search for an anchor to ground him, but had been left without. It was Sunday, and he should be working on an assignment for Professor Alfor, but had felt too anxious to sit down and concentrate for longer than ten minutes.

 

He had sat together in the library with Lance and Hunk, after the latter had approached him after class with a question about the specifics and differences when transfiguring liquids into solids, which had prompted Lance to suggest they work together on their assignment. In fond memory of their talk in the hospital wing, Keith had agreed reluctantly. The morning after his nightmare though his mind had turned to white noise, making him squirm around and looking up every minute without knowing what he was looking for.

 

In the end Lance had been the one to kick him out.

 

‘Not even I can concentrate like this, and that means something. Go run around the castle or get yourself off or I dunno... ’

 

Keith had whacked him over the head with his parchment, left and started looking for Pidge. Even if it made him feel a bit silly, he needed his mother’s ring to help him focus sometimes. It had always carried him through anxious times, and Pidge was getting on his nerves with his vague and rude answers.

 

‘I’ve had enough of it. You don’t give me any reason why I should trust you, our deal’s off.’

 

He was holding out their magic parchment to him alongside the potion book he had given him. Pidge was eyeing him from the side, finally turning his body completely towards him. Keith didn’t care about the condescending stare, the crossed arms or frowned brows. Either he got an explanation why this heirloom was so special to the other or he’d be off with it. No more excuses. He saw the inner conflict raging behind the smaller boy's eyes.

 

‘There’s magic in it.’, Pidge said after a few more seconds.

 

‘No shit, Sherlock…’, Keith muttered. The other looked confused about the name-calling, but didn’t inquire.

 

‘I want to know where its power comes from.’, Pidge said, as if that was a satisfying answer. It wasn’t.

 

‘Why?’, Keith asked.

 

‘It is more elevated than other magic.’

 

‘How?’

 

‘I … I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to find out.’

 

Keith rolled his eyes to indicate that these explanations weren’t even close to enough. Pidge groaned.

 

‘If you tell anybody, I’m going to kill you. Not figuratively, literally. I will end you and throw your corpse into the lake.’

 

Keith swallowed. The other boy wasn’t one to be unnecessarily dramatic, so he stepped closer when he was gestured over. Pidge had reached into his pockets and taken out a small semi translucent crystal, about the size of a raisin. It was of a milky white, a bit of light shimmering through it.

 

‘This is the same material as the purple parts of your ring. I’ve… obtained it a while ago. In the beginning it was shining and pulsing just as your ring. Then one day I woke up and it had turned white and dead. Just like that. There are spells that can trace magic, but there is none of it left. When I saw your ring for the first time, I immediately recognized the material. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity.’

 

Keith thought about what Pidge was saying. Ultimately he hadn‘t revealed anything new about his reasons behind the research, but Keith was definitely interested now.

 

‘You tried all the known spells that can trace magic?’

 

‘Yes.’

 

‘In the forbidden section...’

 

‘Yes.’

 

‘Ask a teacher…’

 

‘NO! No, you can’t ask a teacher. I once tried the subject of different kinds of magic with my father, and he immediately got way too intense, started interrogating me where I got the idea and stuff… it felt way off. Teachers are only gonna get in the way.’

 

‘Do you think it’s dark magic?’, Keith asked. Pidge shrugged.

 

‘I’m not sure. Why else did my father freak out like that? Look, I’ve tried almost everything I know of. You really have no idea how your mum got it?’

 

Keith shook his head. He knew almost nothing about his mother. She had been beautiful, tall and strong, was about all the information he remembered getting out of his father, except for a few anecdotes. Kolivan never talked about her.

 

‘Why is this so important to you, Pidgeon?’, he asked.

 

‘I can’t… No, I don’t want to tell you. It is personal. You should understand that much…’

 

He looked out of the window with an expression Keith hadn’t seen on his face before. Pidge’s lips were pressed together, huge eyes averting eye contact. He was painfully aware suddenly how young the other boy looked. Keith didn’t even know what year or house Pidge was in. It had never mattered to them, and Pidge hadn’t asked him either. Their discourse had always been one of intellectual interest, never really personal.

 

Something in the back of his mind told him that Shiro would know what to do, he’d probably put a hand on the other’s shoulder or say something annoyingly reassuring. He thought about doing the shoulder thing, but how did he know if people even wanted to be touched. He was actually dreading his gesture being rejected, so he kept to looking out of the window alongside the smaller boy. The dense snowfall from that morning had thinned out, with big fluffy flakes tumbling down the windless skies. He sighed.

 

‘You can have it on the weekends. Ko… A certain person is getting more and more suspicious because I don’t wear it anymore.’

 

Pidge let out a loud huff, turning away from him and slipping the small crystal back into his back pocket again. Then he faced Keith again, holding out his ring on the familiar leather cord.

 

‘Meet me Friday evening. I’ll parchment you my location.’

 

‘Parch…. oh. That’s not how you use that …’, Keith frowned while he put the necklace over his head and let it slip under his shirt. It felt like it belonged there, calming his anxiety in an instant. He touched it through the fabric, savoring the smooth texture and soft pulse against his chest. Pidge had already turned around again and was stacking the few books and boxes he had brought, indicating the end of their conversation.

 

Keith’s latest social adventures made him feel jaunty.

 

‘I take it you don’t want me to wait up for you?’, he asked Pidge with a hint of sarcasm, a foot already on the staircase down.

 

‘Have you gone mad? Either you make yourself scarce right away or I’m revoking your ring privileges, buddy.’

 

Keith snorted as he stepped away. He hadn’t expected anything else from Pidge initially, but the bickering had left the atmosphere between them a bit lighter.

  
  
  


……………………………………………

  
  
  


The Hogwarts grounds were covered in a good three feet of snow the next morning. Keith was hurrying down to the Quidditch field after spending that morning shoveling a way from the Thestral’s penn to Kolivan’s hut. Space wolf had kept jumping around him, occasionally pushing him into a heap of snow and diving in right after to wrestle and play. He had grown very fond of the creature over the last weeks, it behaved more like a dog than a wolf and was very fixated on Keith whenever he came over. He heard a sulky awoo from behind him and grinned.

 

In front of him he already saw a small, dark figure darting around in the air around the Quidditch field, performing warm-up stunts while screwing up and down along the goalposts. Shiro probably already had a workout behind him, and Keith reached into his pocket for the chocolate frog he had haggled from another Gryffindor for a rather complicated potions assignment that surprisingly was pretty easy to solve for him.

 

Shiro was descending towards him and Keith suppressed the urge to wave at him. He was just happy to see the Slytherin again, since they hadn’t been able to spend time since the match three days ago. He had looked for Shiro in the library the two evenings following his infirmary stay, without success. What he had found though was swirls on the window suddenly forming into icy letters.

 

Training tomorrow?

 

Grinning he fell into a sprint. He could see a delighted expression on Shiro’s face as he was flying towards him quickly. Almost too quick. If he kept up that speed he wouldn’t be able to land properly, unless he pulled a new stunt that Keith didn’t know. He came to a halt and waited in anticipation as Shiro grew closer and closer. Would he do a new quick turn, or spiral up vertically? Keith’s heart was beating faster and he willed his survival instincts down. He wanted to trust Shiro.

 

Twenty feet. The other was slowing down slightly, but not nearly enough to stop in time.

 

Ten feet. He could see the wicked grin on Shiro’s face and swallowed.

 

Five feet. He wasn’t going to yield.

 

Shiro took him by surprise. Two feet away he extended an arm and simply took Keith with him. He could feel their chests almost crash into each other, the collison dampened by the multiple layers of wool and knit. Keith found himself thrown backwards in the soft snow, Shiro heavy above him shaking with laughter. He heaved himself up, sitting back onto his calves and failing to calm down after looking Keith.

 

‘You..pffft...you should see the look on your face!’, he snorted. Keith was still a bit dumbstruck, staring up at the Slytherin in disbelief.

 

‘I trusted you.’ , he said silently, making Shiro shut up immediately, face turning serious for a second.

 

‘Keith, ...…’, he started, first astonishment and then panic creeping into his expression. That was what did it for Keith. He couldn’t keep it together anymore and fell into a laughing fit, pulling Shiro with him.

 

‘You are one crazy son of a witch.’, he said to the Slytherin still hovering over him, throwing weak punches into his chest and trying to shove him off. Shiro swatted away his hands, tears of joy streaking his reddened cheeks.

 

‘You’re one to talk! You didn’t even try to dodge me!’, he laughed, effectively gathering Keith’s wrists in one hand to keep himself from getting hit even more. He looked down at him, gaze turning soft.

 

‘You really do trust me, huh?’, he asked.

 

‘Mistakes were made!’, Keith laughed. ‘I honestly believed you were going to show me a breathtaking new trick or something.’ He tried to sit up but found himself being pushed back into the snow again, both his hands still in one of Shiro’s. The other pressed them against himself and cowered down. Keith felt the warmth on his face as the Slytherin was suddenly unexpectedly close, firm gaze locked onto his and he felt his heart skip a beat.

 

It was the same sensation as the one Keith had felt a minute before when he had seen Shiro flying towards him. Anticipation. Despite the lack of physical exertion his breath had turned heavy, condensating into pale mist between the few inches separating their faces. His brain had turned into standby mode in the meantime, leaving him watching and waiting.

 

Shiro was observing him intently, bringing his face even closer until his mouth was hovering next to his ear. Keith felt the hot breath burning his freezing skin.

 

‘Punk.’ Shiro whispered into his ear, and suddenly Keith felt a fistful of snow pushed into his face.

 

‘You goddamn …!’ Keith huffed through the icy burn as Shiro was sitting back up again in chuckled delight.

 

‘Language, or I gotta silence that quick tongue of yours!’, he snorted, releasing Keith and gathering more snow into his hands.

 

‘I’d like to see you try, Golden Boy!’ Keith sneered wickedly, reaching into the cold white himself.

 

They ended up out of breath, cheeks and noses crimson with blush and snow melting in the insides of their clothes after having been forcefully pushed down woolen coats and collars. Quidditch was out of the question considering their wet and freezing state, so they made their way back up to the castle shivering but happy. Occasionally someone would get pushed into a heap of snow, starting another small snow fight or chase up to the castle.

 

‘See you at morning-practice tomorrow?’, Shiro asked him when they stood in the entrance hall, about to part ways to take hot showers and get ready for dinner. A few students were scurrying around them, throwing their disheveled figures curious glances as they were walking by. Keith plucked a small clump of ice from the Slytherin’s coat and playfully tossing him towards his face.

 

‘How morning are we talking?’, he answered with a sceptical look.

 

‘6am run around the castle and lake with three sets of push-, pull- and sit-ups after.’, Shiro grinned, deflecting the clump casually and shoving at Keith’s shoulder.

 

‘You need to build more muscle if you want to play professionally one day.’, he added and winked. Keith snorted.

 

‘As if… but yeah. I’ll be there.’

 

He watched the Slytherin walk towards the dungeon doors when a sudden thought hit his mind. He sprinted a few steps to pull him back. Shiro turned around with raised brows.

 

‘You didn’t… visit me at the hospital wing, did you?’, he asked hesitantly. Shiro looked slightly confused and embarrassed.

 

‘Well… no. I really wanted to, I’m sorry Keith. I tried to get in after the match but nurse Sven wouldn’t let me. The morning after we had training. What happened to you exactly? We only heard that the Gryffindor team had a full on brawl in the changing rooms…’ Keith let out the breath he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding. Of course Shiro hadn’t been there. He felt stupid for even asking.

 

‘It was a bit less dramatic. I’ll tell you tomorrow!’, he said with a small nod, turning towards the steps to the grand staircase. He heard the door fall closed behind him and came to a halt in front of Dumbledore’s painting. It was empty. He actually wouldn't have minded a bit of advice at that moment. The feeling of not being able to trust his own gut ate at him little by little and the events from the infirmary wouldn’t leave him alone. Absentmindedly he stuffed his cold fingers into his pocket only to find the rock hard, frozen chocolate frog in there. He had completely forgotten about it.

 

Tomorrow was another day. He’d give it to Shiro then, he thought, jumping up the steps to the Gryffindor tower, clutching his mother’s ring and pushing the feeling of uneasiness to the back of his mind.


	16. Pars Universum

‘You really want to kill me.’ Keith heaved, his breath forming into mist in front of him. His lungs were burning from the cold air around them, but despite the freezing temperatures he was drenched in sweat. They were on their third lap around the castle, passing the Entrance Hall as he got a whiff of eggs and bacon that made him doubt yesterday-Keith’s decision making skills.

 

‘We’re only half through, spare your energy for the pullups.’, Shiro grinned, jogging beside him as if it was nothing. A single droplet of sweat was running down his forehead, taunting Keith’s neglected muscles. They arrived at the Greenhouses, taking a few minutes to catch their breath. Or rather, Shiro let Keith catch his breath while doing a few Jumping Jacks to keep himself warm.

 

‘So tell me, what happened at the game exactly? I only know that some kind of rare situation occurred with the snitch and that you guys lost by accident?’

 

‘It … It was mostly Rolo’s fault,’ Keith heaved. ‘He didn’t see the Snitch and hit it into me with his bat. Problem was Hira thought it counted because it happened by accident…’

 

‘And you corrected them? Damn, Keith, I am pretty impressed.’ Keith let his head hang while supporting himself on his knees. He was still out of breath. Also, they were nearing the uncomfortable part of the conversation where he had to admit he had almost screwed up the one chance Shiro got him. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into a friendly face that made his guts twist in self-loathing.

 

‘Look, I don’t want to sound patronizing, but I’m hella proud you did that. It takes real balls to stand up to a teacher and your own team above that.’ He squeezed his shoulder and then dropped down into a plank. Keith just kept staring blankly at the hyperactive Slytherin on the ground in front of him.

 

‘It doesn’t explain why you and Rolo were guarded back up to the castle by Iverson afterwards. I can imagine what happened, but…’, Shiro started as he was finishing his first set of push-ups, taking a quick break as Keith was still recovering from the run.

 

‘I punched him first. That’s what you want to know, isn’t it?’, he scoffed, standing straight up and looking over to the dark forest. He didn’t feel like he could bear seeing Shiro’s disappointment, especially after he had just praised him like that. Over at Kolivan’s hut he could see the Space Wolf frollicking around in the heaps of snow around it, and he suddenly envied the creature for the simplicity of its life. Shiro had moved next to him, watching the wolf push Kolivan into the white cold and disappearing when the giant man tried to grab it. Shiro chuckled.

 

‘So what did he say that made you lose control?’, he asked, glancing at Keith sideways. Keith sighed.

 

‘I’d rather not say.’ He was pressing his lips together as the shameless insults repeated themselves in his head.

 

‘Look, Keith. In the end it doesn’t matter what anyone says about you. People like that do not want any truth, all they want to do is push at your buttons…’

 

‘I know that!’ Keith snapped back and immediately regretted his tone. He had gotten himself into this mess, he’d take responsibility for it.

 

‘It was immature. I know it and it sucks hard. I’m … I’m sorry I let you down…’ He finally looked up to find painfully sympathetic eyes and raised eyebrows.

 

‘Keith… I know it’s hard to get rid of old patterns. But you didn’t let me down.’, Shiro said, not breaking eye contact. It was almost unnerving.

 

‘Can you at least get mad for a second?’ he ranted, throwing his hands into the air in defeat. ‘I almost got kicked off the team. Just because some unimportant nobody said some shit about you…’ He quickly sucked in the air to his teeth as if to retract the words back into his mouth. Damn.

 

Shiro’s mouth formed a silent _Oh._ He reached around an utterly embarrassed Keith, who abruptly grabbed his wrist before he could wrap it around his shoulders.

 

‘I appreciate the gesture, but I really don’t deserve any sympathy. Also, I am a sweaty, disgusting mess. No joking, I'm soaked.’

 

Keith’s eyes grew wide as he felt the captured hand push him further into the Slytherin’s side, disregarding his futile struggle. Accepting his defeat he let himself be dragged against him and be pet on the shoulder, Shiro’s arm warm and supportive around his back.

 

‘Sorry…’ he said into the silence that threatened to trigger his anxiety. Shiro’s chest next to him rumbled with a snort. Tucked up to the other’s side he realized how tall the Slytherin actually was, his chin on a level with Keith’s eyes. He was looking out over the forest again, so Keith felt bold enough to watch Shiro contemplating what to say next. His features seemed relaxed, but there was a slight squint in his eyes, a subtle furrow of his eyebrows when he spoke again.

 

‘I know it sucks when people badmouth friends or family… but there’s almost nothing I haven’t heard before. Trust me.’ He bowed his head down a bit and the smile he showed Keith didn’t seem completely genuine.

 

‘So please don’t fend for me? Especially if it’s a fight without a victory. I really want to fly against you one day, Keith, and my pride can take a few low blows from random jerk. So can yours.’

 

He squeezed Keith one more time against him, and then suddenly grabbed his neck and pushed him down onto all fours.

 

‘What?!?’, Keith started, only to find a sneering Shiro staring back.

 

‘You’re already one set behind, and I’m not gonna wait for you, Cherrybomb.’

 

‘That again.’, he grumbled, half joking. He had almost gotten used to the nickname, even if Shiro was probably the only person on the planet he wouldn’t skin for calling him that. Shiro, who was already in a plank again, only looked at him with his signature smile.

 

‘It just fits too well. You’re sweet and sour, but quick to explode if one is not careful eno...oof!’

 

Keith, ears burning red, ineffectively tried to shove the Slytherin into the snow at that, new determination forming in his mind.

 

He would play against Shiro one day. Both matches against Slytherin had yet to come, and until then he would do anything he could to get ready. If he had to listen to Rollo making fun of Shiro’s sexual orientation or family situation then be it. He’d catch him outside one day, just as he would Griffin. With his mind back on track he plunged into his push-ups, the burn in his arms fueling the new found spite and resolve.

  


………………………………………

  
  


‘What are you doing Friday evening? After the training?’, Shiro asked as the two of them made their way back into the castle, ready for a shower and breakfast, or in Keiths case several hours on the upholstery in the Gryffindor common room with sore muscles. He had a rather long day itinerary wise, and was not looking forward to another one of Professor Bob’s unnerving Pop up quizzes.

 

‘I’m still benched. Punishment from Iverson, remember?’, Keith huffed, more dragging than walking his exhausted body up the stairs. Shiro was annoyingly unfazed, but at least his face was a bit flushed. He took a deep breath.

 

‘Look, there’s this event this Friday. It’s in Professor Holt’s living quarters, and most of the Quidditch players are invited. I thought maybe you’d like to come? It’s meant to support friendliness between the teams and build relations.’

 

Keith didn’t know what to say at first. Usually he would have declined immediately. He had a reputation that preceded him, and didn’t feel like an evening filled with patronizing faces and murmured insults.

 

On the other hand it was an evening with Shiro. An evening full of Quidditch. Also, he was curious to get to know the man who had been taking care of Shiro since he had transferred to Hogwarts. He would survive a few hours of excessive socializing and just bail back into the Gryffindor tower if it got too much.

 

‘Alright. What time?’, he asked, and Shiro beamed.

 

‘Meet me in front of the Owlery at eight! I’ll take you up. Don’t eat dinner, there’s going to be plenty of food.’ Keith couldn’t help but smile back, it was almost infectious. The last few steps up to the Entrance hall were pure torture, and the prospect of having to drag himself up the Gryffindor Tower to shower made him contemplate going to breakfast smelling like the men’s changing room. At least he’d have plenty of room like that. He put his hands into his pockets and suddenly remembered.

 

‘Shiro!’ The Slytherin turned towards him a little startled as Keith pushed the chocolate frog into his hands and retreated towards the Grand Staircase with a hurried _Gotta go_ . He didn’t know why he felt so flustered all of a sudden, but it was enough to force his protesting muscles up the steps until he was out of sight. He faintly heard Shiro’s _See you later_ and couldn’t suppress a stupid grin stealing itself onto his face.

  
Up to the Gryffindor tower it was then...

…………………………………………………

  


_Where are you?_

 

_No time today. Bring it tomorrow._

 

Keith pushed the parchment back into his pocket. Considering the fact that Pidge had made such a fuss over his ring he was almost confused about the quick dismissal.

 

He was standing in front of his trunk, inspecting the shirts he owned. All of them were plain black, but he didn’t feel like wearing his uniform to an informal event. Black jeans and Converse, black T-shirt and the red hoodie with the lion pin should do. He pushed his hair back into a ponytail, fretting over the fact that he’d have to cut it again soon, it was starting to get long and bothersome. On the other side he was only a centimeter away from tying it into a bun, which he had kind of wanted to try since Rollo had started growing his hair out.

 

Passing the communal bathroom of the 7th years he tried to check his looks in the mirror without being noticed. His shirt sat tight where it would usually just casually hang over is pecs, and he turned sideways to inspect it further when Lance spotted him.

 

‘Eeey, mullet, look at you! Quidditch does you good, flex those babies!’, he called and poked Keith’s chest before he had any time to react to the breach of his personal space. Annoyed, he swatted away Lance’s hand.

 

‘Can you not?’, Keith groaned, pulling up the zipper of his hoodie, suppressing the urge to rub over the spot Lance had stabbed at. Wasn’t stuff supposed to hurt less with more muscle? Lance was raking him up and down in faked offense, a thumb hooked into his studded leather belt. _Poser_ Keith thought. Lance’s eyes suddenly widened as an idea dawned on him.

 

‘Don’t tell me you’re invited to the Quidditch party? Who got you in? Quiznak, do you know the Holts, mullet? They’re an institution here, how did you get into that? No way, do you maybe have a thing for Katie? She’s so distant, man, you gotta tell me your…’

 

‘Merlin’s beard, shut up, Lance!’ Keith was throwing death stares at the other Gryffindor. ‘Seriously, just…’, he made desperate gestures into the air, looking for a more eloquent way to express his thoughts. He couldn't. ‘...just stop talking. It’s too much!’

 

They stared at each other for a few seconds. Lance shifted his weight to the other foot, crossing his arms. He grinned, which unnerved Keith even more.

 

‘What?!’

 

‘You changed, dude.’

 

‘If you say so…’ Keith answered, pushing his hands into his pockets and trying to squeeze past Lance who was still leaning in the doorway. He was held back by his biceps and glared at the owner. Lance quickly let go of him, raising both arms in a calming gesture.

 

‘Look, all I meant is that you don’t just storm off anymore as soon as we’re in the same room. When you’re not glaring everyone to death can actually be pretty agreeable, mullet.’ He had one eyebrow raised and a cocky smile on his lips. Keith was taken aback a bit. He hadn’t expected _that._ It was like a temporary peacy treaty.

 

‘You can actually be pretty agreeable as well.’, he said, imitating Lance’s tone and stance with a taunting eyebrow.

 

‘Look at you mullet, you _do_ have a sense of humor…’ Lance acknowledged him, as someone tackled him from behind.

 

‘Loverboy, you ready to hit up some birds? Oh…’ Rollo was half hanging from Lance’s shoulder when he turned around and noticed Keith still standing in the doorframe. Keith thought he’d feel angrier when being confronted with the guy who had cost him a night of weird dreams and jaw-cramps again, but somehow the satisfaction over seeing half of his face still bruised and a bit swollen calmed his spite immensely. He tried to seem as unfazed as possible. Lance in the meantime had shoved Rollo off him and elbowed him in his side.

 

‘Keith’s coming to the Holt’s event with us, have you heard?’ he said with a very unsubtle undertone. Rollo looked annoyed and turned towards Keith, clearing his throat. His cheek was four different colors, only one of them belonging onto a healthy face, and even though Keith had gotten the more painful end of the bargain his suffering had been relatively quick and way less degrading than Rollo’s, who had to walk around with his shame displayed on his face. Lance hit the other Gryffindor again, earning him a dismissive groan.

 

‘Alright! Get off my back, man…’, he murmured while swatting Lance’s hand away. He looked almost a bit bashful.

 

‘Look, Keith. I know… last week in the changing room… I said some things that were uncool.’

 

His posture had lost the cocky attitude Keith was used to, hunching his shoulders and avoiding eye contact. Still watching the other two he pushed off the doorframe and straightened up, not uncrossing his arms. He only grunted in agreement, waiting if Rollo would add anything else that could be interpreted as an apology.

 

‘I punched your tooth out.’

 

Keith instinctively pushed his tongue against the latest addition to his upper jaw as if to check if the incisor was still there.

 

‘I think I paid you back for that…’ Keith snorted, eyeing Rollo’s rainbow cheek again. The other raised a brow and Keith wasn’t completely sure if he had said the wrong thing. They were staring at each other in silence for a few seconds when Lance let out an exasperated sigh.

 

‘Goddammit, you are both terrible at this. Keith, Rollo is trying to apologize, stop being such an ass. Rollo, get your head out of your own bum and just say it! It’s easy and I really wanna got to this party, you know that _she_ ’s gonna be there and I can’t loose that chance because you two idiots don’t have the balls to…’

 

‘Lance!’ Keith and Rollo snapped simultaneously, rendereing all three of them speechless for a moment. Lance was the first to react, face turning from offended to amused, Rollo followed with a slight smirk, eyeing Keith from the side. Keith pressed his lips together in a mocking imitation, finally uncrossing his arms and pushing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

 

‘We’re good. I’m not apologizing for the punch though.’ he said, raking Rollo and Lance up and down expecting them to interject. They didn’t.

 

‘Fair enough.’ Rollo sighed, pushing a loose strand of hair behind his ear and holding up his fist towards Keith. Startled at first he hesitantly bumped it with his own, earning him a nod from Rollo.

 

‘I’m starving. Let’s start I say, before the Hufflepuffs gobble up all the good stuff!’

  


……………………………………….

  


Rollo was still eyeing him from time to time as they were walking down the steps of the Grand Staircase, picking up Acxa, Luca, Nyma, Veronica and Rachel in the Common Room. Keith was trailing a bit behind, waiting for his opportunity to sneak away to the Owlery to meet Shiro. Technically he now had someone to take him up to the Holts’ living quarters, but no chance to let the Slytherin know. Why the wizarding community hadn’t invented some kind of instant messaging technique over the years was a mystery to him.

 

A figure was falling back and he found unsure pale eyes looking down at him.

 

‘Are we okay?’, Rollo asked, trying to sound painfully casual while fidgeting with his hands.

 

‘Acxa sent you back?’, Keith muttered so the others in front of them wouldn’t be able to listen in. Lance was doing curious poses and trying way too hard to make the girls laugh at his jokes. He noticed Nyma throwing them suspicious glances over her shoulder.

 

‘She did.’, Rollo admitted, scratching his nose in embarrassment. ‘That woman is scary as hell.’

 

‘Yeah.’, Keith agreed, not able to keep from smiling weakly. Acxa might be scary, but she was also fierce, determined and compassionate. Tough love all over, but it was something he knew how to handle. She was a worthy leader. He thought about Rollo’s initial question. His pain was gone and he didn’t fee any personal grudge against his teammate, but there was one thing still bothering him.

 

‘We’re good.’, he said, shrugging his shoulders. ‘You said some messed up stuff about Shiro though, so it’s not really me you owe one.’ It was supposed to challenge Rollo, and although Keith was aware it was not his battle to fight he wanted the other Gryffindor to at least face Shiro about it. Rollo swallowed hard.

 

‘I guess you’re right.’ he sighed, visibly uncomfortable. They walked beside each other in awkward silence for a bit, and Keith was already making up escape plans when Nyma waved Rollo to the front. With a quick last glance the other sprinted forward and took his girlfriend’s hand.

 

Keith walked behind them for a few minutes, falling back even more, his eyes locked onto the interwaved fingers of the couple in front of him. It was such a casual gesture and yet intimate enough it felt like he wasn’t supposed to watch.

 

He couldn’t remember the last time his Dad had held his, and Kolivan hadn’t been one to get touchy feely with people. Unconsciously his own hands had folded in front of him, and he put them back into his pockets, frowning over his own actions.

 

The distance between him and the others had grown enough so he could slip into a corridor to his left unnoticed, taking a short detour to get to the owlery. Shiro was already waiting for him, back turned towards Keith and watching the birds come and go through the small windows of the tower.

 

If it hadn’t been for his silver hair and height he had almost not recognized him. Instead of the uniform pants, dress shirt, tie and knitted vest he was wearing fitted jeans and a black and white baseball shirt. The sight was so unusually casual to Keith he stopped in his track to double check if he had mistaken another student for Shiro.

 

He hadn’t. The Slytherin turned around with a grin and waved lazily.

 

‘You’re late. I was beginning to think you might have stood me up.’, he said with a nervous laugh. Keith didn’t know how to react to the whole situation, so he just shrugged his shoulders, which earned him a playful shove from Shiro.

 

‘Don’t forget, I know the password to your tower now, I could always just come and drag you out.’, he teased, gesturing towards a flight of stairs.

 

‘You wouldn’t.’, Keith said, trailing Shiro up the steps.

 

‘I wouldn’t.’, the Slytherin agreed with a chuckle. It made him feel a little lighter. It also made him realize that he had been stressed out about this event, maybe more than he had admitted to himself. Spending a whole evening among people who were basically strangers sounded like the absolute worst case scenario, and he knew very well he couldn’t expect Shiro to spend all his time on him. In his head he was going through possible situations and conversations when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

 

‘Huh?’

 

‘Earth to Keith, you still with me?’, Shiro grinned, removing his hand again after a short squeeze. ‘I was asking if you’re hungry.’

 

‘Nah.’ Shiro was mustering him up and down with a raised eyebrow. The oncoming awkwardness must have somehow manifested itself on his face judging by Shiro’s sympathetic look.

 

‘You won’t know most of the people there. If you feel an awkward silence coming, try asking the person how they got into Quidditch. That usually keeps a conversation going, all of us love to talk about our passion and history together. If it gets too much just excuse yourself to the bathroom, or tell them I wanted to speak with you. No need to fret so much. I believe in you, Keith.’ He said the last sentence while clutching his heart dramatically, which caused Keith to snort out an amused _Dork_.

 

‘I can handle myself.’, he retorted, trying to sound appreciative instead of dismissive. He probably hadn’t succeeded, but Shiro didn’t care either way. They had reached a corridor whose domed ceiling was adorned with little enchanted stars that twinkled down at them in an almost cheesy manner, no comparison to the overcast sky visible through the windows. He heard Shiro exhale next to him and looked over. His gaze was fixed onto the sparkling ceiling.

 

‘Do you know that Professor Holt enchanted this part of the castle himself? He made it resemble real constellations, but instead of the whole night sky it only shows a small part but in greater detail. Look over there!’, he pointed a finger at the edge above a painting of some humanized zodiac signs frollicking on a cloud. A fuzz of pink, purple and light blue with a bright center floated adorned by small white spots.

 

‘That’s NGC 6217, a galaxy that’s about 90 million light years away from us. We will never be able to reach it, but with a mixture of magic and technology we are able to observe it. How amazing is that?’

 

Keith watched in fascination. He really wanted to pay attention to Shiro’s explanations, but he found himself locked onto his face. The Slytherin’s eyes were bright with a passion he otherwise only showed when flying, and it was the most entrancing sight to see. Going on about some of the colorful spirals and nebulas on the ceiling, raising his finger towards special stars and constellations Keith had to force himself to pay the galaxies at least a weak glance whenever Shiro pointed them out. He could spend the evening with the other explaining the universe to him, and even though he had no idea about the subject he wouldn’t mind just listening until the sun went up.

 

‘You probably think I’m a huge nerd now?’, Shiro joked as they were closing in on a big oak door with a door knocker that was shaped like a bird of prey. Keith shook his head lightly.

 

‘Nah. I’ve already known _that_ all along.’

 

‘Careful, or I’ll leave you to the wolves in there if you keep teasing me.’, Shiro laughed and let the bird fall onto the door twice.

 

‘Shut up, you love it.’ The words came out before he could think about them and he immerdiately cursed himself, sudden dread grasping at his stomach. What if he had crossed a line. Before Shiro could react the copper raven in front of them cawed _Password?_

 

‘Andromeda.’, Shiro answered, and the door swung open, warm light, cheerful chatter and a smell promising a rich assortment of dinner choices was welcoming them in. Shiro shot him a glance from the side and winked.

 

‘You’re right, I do. Ready, Cherrybomb?’

 

Keith could feel the heat wanting to creep into his face and took a deep breath, focusing on the task at hand. Survive the evening. Pretend to be a functioning part of society. Determination pushed its way through the awkwardness and he took a step into the quarters.

 

‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’


	17. Caelum Sidereum

 

The Holt’s living quarters were more spacious than he had expected. He guessed it was compensation for having to spend most of your adult life trapped in a medieval castle with hoards of pubescent teenagers that didn’t know how to handle themselves. They entered into a big circular room with another domed ceiling that made the one outside in the corridor look laughable in comparison. It showed the night sky, but if someone had tuned down contrast, brightness and saturation all at once. A cloudy scatter of millions of little dots and sparkling stars was running all over it, adorned by nebulas and glistening lights left and right.

 

‘Amazing, isn’t it?’ Shiro asked, who tactfully refrained from making a comment about Keith’s flabbergasted expression.

 

‘Is that all real?’ Keith asked, not able to pay the people in the room any attention. The view was marvellous, he had never seen anything like it even in the clearest nights out at the cliffs in Kolivan’s cottage. He understood Shiro’s slight obsession with space a bit. He could probably look at the ceiling all night without getting bored. Unfortunately the universe, or rather Shiro had other plans. With a nod and a hand on the small of Keith’s back he gently pushed him further into the room.

 

It wasn’t dark per se, but the lights had definitely been dimmed and turned to a cooler shade of white. What functioned as lamps was milky glass ovals in the smooth, grey walls that gave off an eerie glow. Little alcoves were set into the wall, a few people sitting on comfortable looking upholstery of navy and pastel blue. Through the windows he had a beautiful view over the dark lake, rivaling the one from the Astronomy Tower.

 

Pushed to the rounded walls of the room he spotted a few tables full of plates with different delicacies that made his stomach rumble in anticipation, and Shiro grinned beside him. He let himself be guided further into the room, the hand on his back anchoring him in a weird kind of way.

 

There were about twenty people strewn about, chatting, eating and having a great time from what it seemed. He spotted a few professors, and purposefully looked away as nurse Sven gave him jazzhands behind Iverson’s back, who looked like he still tried to digest last weeks stew as he spotted Keith.

 

He knew most guests, although he hadn’t actually had conversations with them outside of classrooms or offices, and even then barely so. He felt a spiteful determination to do good that evening, to give people a fresh start with him. Not sure how to achieve that goal he noticed them coming to a halt at the other end of the room where an older man was helping himself to some curious purple treats.

 

‘Takashi, I was wondering when you’d come, boy!’ the man with short grey hair and glasses chimed, patting Shiro on the shoulder.

 

‘I see you brought a friend?’ Keith hadn’t seen Professor Holt very often, but the picture of him hanging off Shiro mid panic attack in front of him suddenly occupied his mind and trapped his tongue.

 

‘Indeed. May I introduce Keith Kogane, Professor? He’s the newest addition to the Gryffindor team, a superb flyer and even better Seeker.’

 

Professor Holt looked at him fondly and extended a hand. Keith’s remaining two brain cells that hadn’t frozen over barely managed to get his hand into the Professor’s and let himself be shaken.

 

‘I hear you have a special inclination towards the truth, even if it may be an uncomfortable one.’ Holt winked at him.

 

He must look like a deer in the headlights, unable to form a comprehensible thought all the while his inner self was screaming at him to get his act together. A warm and heavy hand landed on his shoulder from behind and pulled him back into reality. Shiro was still there, just as he had been that day back in October when they had first met. How much had changed since then. He felt himself relax a bit into the touch.

 

‘It would have been revoked. So it made no difference if I had said it or not.’ he muttered, trying to urge his nerves to calm down. A calloused thumb was rubbing subtle circles onto the little nub of his spine at the back of his neck, and he felt his muscles release tension with every small stroke.

 

‘Oh, but it does. It says a lot about you, Mr. Kogane. I am happy to welcome you into my home, any friend of Takashi’s is welcome here.’

 

‘You must have a lot of people over then.’ Keith said. He hadn’t even thought about it, it was a logical consequence of Shiro’s popularity, but the thumb on his neck suddenly stopped and it made him feel more dread than facing the Astronomy Professor had.

 

‘Not at all, he’s not one to stay in and do normal teenager stuff, so we barely see him.’, Holt snickered. Behind him a loud thud was audible, followed by a high pitched shriek.

 

‘On the other hand I have been blessed with another son who takes the whole ordeal of being a rebelling youth far too serious. Excuse me for a moment, Mr. Kogane. It was nice finally meeting you properly after hearing so much about you!’

 

Keith tried to ignore the stab at their last meeting as the Professor turned around with an exasperated sigh, leaving his plate full of purple snacks behind. Keith turned towards Shio with a doubtful face. He was met with a sheepish expression.

 

‘Don’t worry, I didn’t tell them anything compromising. I just had to boast about the new talent I had found and then they kept asking about you. Sam… Professor Holt actually asked me if I wanted to invite you here. He’s a good guy.’, he rambled, sneaking one of the Professor’s treats into his mouth.

 

‘You sound as if you have a bad conscience.’ Keith replied, raising an eyebrow as an inquiry.

 

‘Yeah… maybe a bit? I know you don’t like being talked about. I just… I was really happy meeting you and needed to tell someone I guess.’

 

They were standing opposite each other, Shiro’s hand still on the nape of his neck, his palm warm against the side of it. As if the gesture hadn’t been intimate enough already the Slytherin’s words slowly sunk in as his brain was restarting. He had no response. The other’s eyes became unbearable all of a sudden and he had to look away in search of anything to use as a distraction.

 

That was the moment his eyes widened with recognition. Light brown eyes and hair. Small frame. That was about all the similarities they had in common but it was unmistakably the gremlin staring at him with a horror-stricken face from an empty alcove across the room. Without letting the smaller guy out of his sight he gently shrugged off Shiro’s hand and murmured:’ I need to greet someone.’

 

Pidge was attempting to get away as subtly as possible but Keith was next to him within a few steps and pulled him back into the small space by his elbow.

 

The translucent curtains adorning the ornate stone bow which they entered through were probably supposed to be more decoration than anything else, but Keith uncaringly yanked them close nevertheless. Milky light seeped through them and illuminated the smaller boys face in front of him. It was set into a stubborn grimace, eyes darting back and forth looking for a way to escape. It was definitely Pidge. Pidge without his glasses, in a girly, teal dress and with a long ribboned ponytail. Was he wearing lipgloss?

 

The confusion must have been written onto his face. Pidge was rolling his eyes and exhaling more intensely than he had to. If he was at this party he was either a Quidditch player or sneaked in incognito to gather some sort of information. Especially the fact that he was lurking around alone in an alcove was indication for the latter. His first impulse had been to confront the smaller guy about his updo, but the longer he spent watching him, hand still tightly grabbing his elbow the more he realized it was none of his damn business.

 

If Pidge liked to dress up, so be it. If he snuck around teachers’ accommodations to collect whatever shady information he needed, who was he to judge. Releasing the other’s arm he took a step back. An apology already on his lips Pidge suddenly lurched forward, grabbing the collar of his hoodie and yanking him down with more force than he had anticipated. Faces only inches apart he hissed at Keith.

 

‘Not a word to anyone. I don’t know who you are and we’ve never met. I don’t think you can gain more from revealing me than it would cost you.’ Keith raised his hands in a pacifying gesture, bent over slightly by Pidge’s relentless little fist. _Little demon._ Keith thought.

 

‘Calm down, Pidgeon, I’m not gonna tell on you.’, he murmured, plucking the other’s hands from his collar.

 

Before Pidge could give any response the curtains were yanked away again, another brown eyed face looking down at them furiously. Keith only registered a shocked gasp from someone in his close proximity when he felt himself being pushed back onto a pillowed bench. His brain was not in a state to process all of the sudden interactions, so he just sat there flabbergasted. Behind the boy who had shoved him he saw Shiro’s face, apologetic yet worried, and a little bit of something he couldn’t quite make out. The other one was clutching Pidge by the upper arm.

 

‘Don’t you dare lay another hand on my sister. She’s two years younger than you, do you have any decency?’

 

‘Matt, calm down, he didn’t do anything!’ he heard Shiro calm the other as he laid a hand on his shoulder. Pidge in the meantime was squirming to get his arm out of his brother’s grip, looking like a mouse in a trap.

 

‘Let go of me, you’re the only one being _indecent_!’ Pidge mocked his words, kicking at his shin. The whole scene playing before Keith was so absurd he had a hard time piecing everything together.

 

He still did ten minutes later as they were all sitting down in the alcove, a glass of Ginger tea in hand and nibbling on some orange slices Shiro was handing around on a little plate. Keith didn’t feel like eating.

 

‘I’m sorry I yelled at you.’ the guy called Matt said, scratching his arm awkwardly.

 

‘And that you shoved him…’, Shiro added with raised eyebrows.

 

‘And that I shoved you.’, Matt echoed, sounding genuine. ‘I just tend to get overprotective. Katie isn’t really close to other kids, especially guys, and my big brother instincts kicked in.’

 

‘More like asshat instincts…’, Pidge muttered next to him, earning her a shove from Matt’s elbow. The puzzle pieces started to align.

 

Pidge was Ravenclaw-Katie. Pidge was a Quidditch player. Pidge was Matt’s younger sibling. Pidge was a girl.

 

If he thought about it, the smaller Ravenclaw had never given him any information about herself. He had just plainly assumed that she was a boy, and finding out the truth had astounded him more than he liked to admit. In the end it made no difference, but it was a somewhat shocking reveal. Shiro was sitting between Matt and him, nudging him encouragingly.

 

‘Wanna step outside for a second?’, he asked, painfully sympathetic. Keith just shrugged his shoulders and looked at Pidge again. She had crossed her arms in front of her chest in a dismissive stance and was purposefully looking away from them. He found a hand suddenly held up in front of his face.

 

‘My name is Matthew Holt, I’m Professor Holt’s son. Call me Matt.’

 

Keith scowled, but shook the offered hand.

 

‘Keith.’, he said.

 

The air around them seemed cuttable with a knife, and even Shiro looked like he didn’t exactly know what to say next. Opposite of him Pidge was still scowling. Matt was the one to break the silence.

 

‘So… you’re the Gryffindor Seeker?’ Keith looked up. Was that guy messing with him on purpose?

 

‘Lance is. I play reserve.’, he answered coldly, throwing all his good intentions of not being too hostile out of the window. Matt looked taken aback, but he felt no remorse. Maybe a little as Shiro kept nudging him from the side.

 

‘I see…’ Matt smiled nervously, frowning his eyebrows.

 

‘Look, Keith, I really am sorry. It looked like something different when I found you two holding hands in here…’ Pidge interjected with a disgusted _ew,_ earning her another elbow shove, ‘and I’d like to make it up to you.’, Matt continued. ’Let me treat you to a butterbeer and Madame Rosmerta’s famous Shepherd’s Pie this sunday. I want to get to know you a little since Shiro’s been going on and on about Keith, the Quidditch prodigy...’

 

Huh. The embarrassment didn’t improve his defensive mindset, and his face must have told it all since he suddenly felt Shiro’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing.

 

‘Keith. You’re great, and I’m not apologizing for that, so stop death glaring me. Besides, are you not going to Hogsmead this Sunday?’, he asked, distracting him from his initial discomfort, making his mouth form a silent _oh_. In between all the Quidditch drama and homework assignments he had completely forgotten about the day trip to the quaint village adjacent to the Hogwarts grounds.

 

‘I haven’t thought about it…’, he said truthfully. The trips were meant to be a treat for the students to get out of the dull Hogwarts routine once in a while, but for him it had always meant running into Griffin and his entourage sooner or later, and after his first three years he had gotten tired of constantly getting in trouble, so he had stayed with Kolivan or maraudered through the almost empty castle.

 

‘It’s settled then! We’ll meet up at the Three Broomsticks for a delightful afternoon snack!’, Matt chimed way too cheerful for Keith’s taste, and he was about to interject when a sudden thought crossed his mind. If Matt was there, Shiro would probably be there too. He looked over at the Slytherin sitting beside him and was met with an encouraging smirk that could have been endearing if not for the bits of orange stuck between his teeth.

 

Shiro was such a dork and he realised bit for bit that he liked him even more because of it. A day trip with casual conversations and hopefully a few quiet moments together sounded far too tempting, and in the end he gave in and nodded. He was rewarded with more exposure of the tortured orange piece wedged firmly between Shiro’s front teeth.

 

‘HOGSMEAD DATE!’, Matt chimed and high fived Shiro and a very thrown off Keith who managed to get his hand up by pure instinct.

 

‘Somebody say Hogsmead?’, a voice from outside the curtains chimed. They were pushed aside and a dark haired head was stuck through the gap between.

 

‘Curtis!’, Shiro exclaimed with a smile that made Keith feel fondness and dread simultaneously, and he had to push the feelings down by force. Getting jealous over every friendship Shiro had with another person was just plain pathetic, and he had already known how popular the Slytherin was from the start. _Act cool_ he thought, immediately feeling the urge to slap himself for it.

 

Shiro in the meantime had stood up, grabbed the other guys hand and bumped their shoulders together. He turned around, a hand on Curtis’ back and searched Keith’s eyes.

 

‘This is Curtis! He plays as a Hunter for the Hufflepuff team. Snuck about five Quaffles past Matt at their last match!’, he grinned over at the Ravenclaw who flung an orange slice at him with a muffled _Jerk._ Curtis seemed flustered next to Shiro, and Keith could relate.

 

Shiro was one to automatically draw everyone’s attention onto him and just standing next to that felt overwhelming. Maybe he should smile, it seemed like the polite way to do, but the evening was draining his socializing reserves alarmingly quickly. He nodded towards the newcomer who still seemed a bit lost.

 

Although he wasn’t much shorter than Shiro he was about half his width, in a patriotic mustard yellow knit sweater and black skinny jeans. His eyes were a bit uncertain but friendly and acknowledged Keith with a quick smile.

 

‘Well, at the next match you shot me off my broom at halftime, so don’t praise me too much.’, he noted a bit embarrassed, playfully pushing Shiro away.

 

‘Oh, that was you?’, Keith recalled suddenly. He had been at that match, watching the Hufflepuff tumble down almost 30 feet, barely hanging onto his broom and crashing with a toe curling sound onto the ground.

 

‘Spent the whole next day in the infirmary. This one here got me good.’, he chuckled as they both squeezed between Keith and Matt onto the bench. Keith scooted to the side as much as he could without slipping off which left him one buttcheek to sit on. Shiro’s thigh was pressed tightly against his and radiated heat, and he had to suppress the urge to shake his leg as he would usually do.

 

‘How is your teams Seeker? I heard he also had so spend the aftermath of our match in the hospital wing?’, Curtis asked, and Keith took a moment before he noticed he was the one being addressed.

 

‘He’s fine. Our team did more damage to itself than you guys did.’, Keith answered, trying out a cynical undertone. He didn’t expect the people in the alcove to find it funny, but having someone laugh at a poorly executed joke of his felt kind of nice. Before he noticed he was grinning at them, mentally patting his own shoulder. He wasn’t doing half bad, he thought.

 

‘Speaking of teams!’, Curtis suddenly exclaimed, turning towards Shiro. ‘The Apparition guys want to get together on Sunday, Butterbeer at Rosmerta‘s, are you in?’ Shiro and Matt grinned at each other.

 

‘What are the odds! We should join you guys at the Three Broomsticks, Matt, if you don’t mind?’, Shiro chimed and looked expectantly at the Ravenclaw who gave him a grinning thumbs up.

 

‘Butterbeer and Pie?’, he asked into Keith’s direction with that wicked grin of his and he couldn’t help but give a defeated nod. More people. More socializing. Shiro began to turn into a weak spot for him, but maybe he could really use it as an opportunity to make more friends. The thought was a bit depressing, but life had taught him it was dangerous to rely on a single person too much, and even though Shiro had become a big part of his life in the short time they had gotten close he couldn’t suppress the voice telling him to enjoy it while it lasted.

 

Matt stood up, stretching his arms over his head and yawning.

 

‘Alright, boys, I don’t know about you, but if I don’t move around I’ll fall asleep. Anyone feel like plundering the buffet with me?’. Shiro laughed.

 

‘Sounds like a plan. I still don’t know where all that food goes though, your body is way too small to hold all that mass.’, he said as he was raising, Curtis and Keith following.

 

‘Stop skinny shaming me, you wannabe beefcake.’, Matt jabbed back at him, pushing the curtains of the alcove aside while walking backwards, earning him a playful shove. A single idea sprouted in Keith’s head, and for a curious reason he felt nervous.

 

‘Should we ride together?’, he asked into the silence between the boyish snickers of Matt and Shiro. Only Curtis reacted.

 

‘Oh, thanks Keith, I forgot! Shiro! Lotor and Allura organized a carriage for the guys of the course...’, he called out to the Slytherin. Shiro stopped in his tracks and looked back, a bit uncertain.

 

‘What about Matt and Keith?’, he asked, looking back and forth between them. Keith felt an icy hand grip his stomach and turn it. Matt saved him from having to answer.

 

‘Oh, how in the world will we survive without your amazing grace delighting our way to wonderland, Golden boy!’, he mimicked theatrically, draping his forearm over his eyes.

 

‘Alright, I’ll tell your Dad to send you to acting school instead of the Quidditch camp. Keith, are you gonna be fine?’

 

‘Sure.’, he croaked. Why wouldn’t he. Shiro owed him nothing. There was no reason to feel disappointed. Everything was fine. Shiro didn’t look completely convinced, but let himself be pushed over to the tables with the snacks by a still melodramatically gesturing Matt.

 

Keith tried to walk along, but his feet wouldn’t move. He was still hidden by the walls of the alcove from most of the room, and within a few seconds the other guys were out of sight, leaving behind a trail of snickering and snorts. Not sure what to do next he just kept standing there for a few moments, until a voice to his side startled him so much he flinched.

 

‘Boy…. that was tough to watch


	18. Curare facilius quam fracti fractorum

‘Boy… that was tough to watch.’

 

Keith had completely forgotten that Pidge had been in the alcove with all of them from the moment Kurt had put his head through the curtains. She looked at him with the kind of expression people usually showed towards a hurt stray, making him feel pitiful and pathetic. It was his cue to disappear back into the Gryffindor tower, curl into his blanket and stare up to the ceiling until the sun rose, letting his thoughts go around in circles uselessly.

 

Without another glance towards Pidge he turned towards the big circular living room, already looking for the way with the lowest probability of him getting noticed leaving. A hand on his wrist held him back before he could step out of the alcove. Breathing through his nostrils he didn’t look back at the small Ravenclaw girl when he murmured ‘Let go.’

 

Of course she didn’t.

 

‘Do what you want.’, she said. ‘But don’t forget our agreement.’ When Keith turned towards her he was surprised to find her expression back to neutral. Pulling his arm from her grip with a short yank he reached under his collar to pull out the ring on its leather cord. She took it without any further comments and hurried past him to disappear through a group of people passing the compartment.

 

Keith didn’t know if he should feel glad or disappointed. The remnants of their ginger teas stood cold and forgotten on the low table besides the pieces of orange peel on the little plate. He had never been great at pulling himself out of an emotional dark pit, and as the remains of their refreshments laid forgotten in the dim light he could grimly relate. Over the last years being alone had turned from feeling left out into something more peaceful and unbothered. That night was the first instance in a long time he was lonely among a room full of people. He hadn’t missed that.

 

Frustration over his own inability to casually join Shiro’s circle of friends carried him outside, ducking into the shadows along the wall towards the exit. He heard a few familiar voices and caught a glimpse of Rollo talking to Shiro with pressed lips and averted eyes. It gave him a bittersweet aftertaste when he closed the door behind him and leaned against it for a deep breath and reassessment of his situation.

 

All was fine. Shiro had a lot of friends, it it had been something he had always been aware of. In the end it was his own fault for thinking himself more important than the other people in the Slytherin’s daily life, the Quidditch trainings, workouts and study sessions having given him a stupid sense of security.

 

 _Pathetic_ he thought to himself. The universe looked down on him from the ceiling, making his whole situation seem void within the vast stretch of it. It only caused him to feel worse for making a bigger deal out of it than it should be. An hour before he had been in awe of the display, confronted with the beautiful infinity of space. The only vibe he got now was a spirited _Screw you_ , not quite sure if it was directed at the starry ceiling or at himself.

 

Both.

 

Both was good.

 

Pushing himself off the door he drew a deep breath to steady himself and retreat back to his bed up in the tower when he heard people coming closer from around the corner at the far end of the corridor, a cold hand gripping his stomach when he recognized their voices.

 

Kinkade. Rizavi. Leifsdottir. Griffin. Their light hearted chatter growing louder was like a drum roll towards the eclipse of his evening. Either he’d return back into the Holt’s living quarters, having to fake unbothered conversation and possibly facing Shiro when he felt like screaming at any- and everyone, or he went up into the tower, meeting the Ravenclaws coming towards him half way and probably get dragged into some kind of confrontation.

 

It was an easy decision. Pent up frustration had been bubbling up inside of him since Cullen had joined them in the alcove and Griffin was sure to give him a good reason to let off some steam. A reckless part of his subconscious had taken over, the one that blended out possible consequences of his actions in favor of satisfying his need for aggressive release.

 

Keith started along the corridor, the voices getting louder with every step. They walked around the corner, Griffin grinning at Leifsdottir with an unbothered expression when he spotted Keith. There were about ten feet left between him and their group, him walking alongside the left wall to give them the opportunity to pass him without paying him any attention when in reality he was almost hoping for a snarky remark or a shove against the wall, hoping for an excuse to let out his anger.

 

Griffin didn’t disappoint.

 

‘I see they didn’t let in the misfits. I was worrying I might have to mingle with some second rate wannabe players in there.’, Griffin hissed towards Kinkade who didn’t react. It wasn’t quite enough to do anything, so Keith kept walking, clenching his fists in the pockets of his hoodie. A little more.

 

‘Not so brave without your guard dog, Kogane. Bet you hoped that kissing up to Shirogane’s ass would get you in there, reject.’

 

Not enough yet. Keith’s jaw was clenched shut and he ignored the group as he passed them and finally got the opportunity to react when a shoulder purposely clashed against his. Having expected something similar Keith was quick to run around, grab the neck of the person the shoulder belonged to and shoved them into the wall. To his disappointment it wasn’t Griffin who turned around, but Leifsdottir, holding her hand against her forehead with a groan. Before Keith could react he felt himself get yanked back by his hood and stumbled to the ground over an extended limb.

 

‘You little piece of shit.’, Griffin said, kicking at Keith’s side when he tried to get up.

 

‘Getting into the team just like that after the rest of us have worked our fucking asses off?’ Another kick, and he tried to protect his ribs through wrapping his arms around his torso. Something stung somewhere.

 

‘You think you’re better than the rest of us, don’t you? Sucking Shirogane’s dick for that fucking broom?’ This time he expected it.

 

Griffin’s foot kicked at his side for the third time, and he caught it between his ribs and his upper arm, clutching it and simultaneously spinning his body jerkily towards it. Griffin went down with a muffled cry, a satisfying crack coming from the limb trapped beneath Keith’s body. Ignoring the sting close to his liver he jumped up into a crouch, barely evading Rizavi’s hand reaching for him. He threw his whole weight against hers, making he stumble onto her back. He wasn’t so lucky with Kinkade who gripped the front of his hoodie as he caught his balance, effectively shoving him back into the wall. Keith instinctively tucked his head between his shoulders, but couldn’t evade it smacking against the cold stone behind him.

 

His head rung, but not enough to block out the restriction of oxygen where Kinkade was putting pressure on his windpipe, almost lifting him off the ground. A weak kick against the bigger guys shin was lazily dodged and the thick fingers squeezed a bit tighter. Keith clawed at the wrist against his throat, without any success.

 

‘You are doing this to yourself, you know?’, Kinkade muttered. ‘If you had just let it be…’ He sighed. It made Keith laugh out spitefully, the sound closer to hoarse croak.

 

‘You’re just his pathetic lackeys.’, Keith rasped, trying to get some leverage on Kinkade’s arm. He was starting to get dizzy, a familiar panic stirring at the edge of his consciousness over the lack of air. Griffin was a blurry figure wobbling on one leg behind Kinkade, his hand outstretched weirdly towards them.

 

‘Lean aside, Ryan.’, he sneered, and too late Keith realized what it was Griffin was holding.

 

‘Immobilus.’ He felt his body lock up, his jerking body suddenly unable to move. Kinkade yanked his hand out of Keith’s stiff fingers where they were still wrapped around his wrist, and a sharp pain shot through his hands. He would have screamed, but his lips were shut an muffled the sounds into something pitifully pathetic, only entertaining Griffin more. Another kick, this time to his groin.

 

If the spell hadn’t frozen him into place he would have collapsed on the ground. He felt the air get pushed out of his lungs on their own accord.

 

‘Partem moveri.’, someone said releasing the spell from his face. The only thing he could do was scrunch his eyes closed to deal with the pain expanding into his stomach like liquid electricity frying him from the inside. His lungs didn’t grant him any air after the blow, and his mouth cramped uselessly into a mute scream.

 

‘Let’s leave him here.’

 

‘I’m bleeding? He needs to be punished, I’m telling Professor Holt.’

 

‘You’re not. No need to involve teachers into this. Get your redemption now and then we leave.’

 

‘But the party.’

 

‘My ankle is sprained, and as you can see Ina is apparently dying of blood loss. Infirmary and then tower. Ryan, give me a hand.’

 

‘Ass.’

 

The voices blurred together as Keith was still trying to catch his breath and urge his consciousness through the haze of pain.

 

He didn’t notice the light steps getting closer to him.

 

He did notice the contact of knuckles with his cheekbone and nose, whipping his head to the side and leaving a dull pain that momentarily distracted him from the excruciating pain in his nether region.

 

‘Fuck you, Kogane.’, a girl’s voice whispered into his ear. With that they were gone. Keith gasped for air and tried to focus on his breathing to get back into a kind of rhythm. He was used to pain, and he had endured worse than this. Wetness on his lips made him press them together more tightly. His nose was possibly broken too and he was afraid he’d throw up if he had to taste his own blood now, which would add to the awkwardness of his situation as soon as someone found him.

 

The party was bound to go on for a few more hours, until then he should have recollected himself from the blows to his body and dignity. The worst part about it was that their clash had provided exactly what Keith had wanted. Distraction and the possibility to punch something. However, as the pain subsided the memories of the evening’s conversations returned with slow dread. Instead of staring his unfruitful self-doubt into the ceiling above his bed he would now do so with the wall opposite of him where a painting depicted a bunch of coppery instruments in front of the setting sun shining through a stained glass window. The beauty of it was lost on him.

 

His head had gone through all the people that could possibly find him alongside the course that the different conversations might take, and not many of them had ended without shame and detention. Sven was his safe choice, the probability of that happening too low to even get his hopes up.

 

The blood had dried on his lips already when the door opened the next time, faint light and noise seeping through the corridor. The voices were not ones he had hoped to hear.

 

‘Sure you don’t mind? You don’t have to leave already.’ Shiro didn’t sound particularly happy. The door fell closed.

 

‘It’s okay, that way I don’t have to walk down to the kitchens alone.’, the Hufflepuff player Keith had gotten to know earlier chuckled. He couldn’t remember his name for the love of Merlin. Something with a C, he thought.

 

‘Can’t you just sleep here though?’, Callum asked as they got closer to where Keith was still stuck to the wall. They would notice him soon in the faint blue glow the ceiling emitted into the corridor.

 

‘They offered, but…’ Shiro sighed. ‘I don’t want to seem like I get favored.’

 

Keith wasn’t able to turn his head when Cyrus let out a _Merlin_ , followed by the first swear word he had heard Shiro consciously say out loud in front of him. Keith had had a faint hope that they’d be too focused on their conversation to notice him. Futile optimism.

 

‘Go get Sven!’, Shiro barked at Citrus, his steps already closing in on Keith.

 

‘NO!’, Keith croaked as loud as he could manage, his strained windpipe working against him. It was bad enough two people had seen him in his state. Shiro was suddenly in front of him. Through the gaps between his broken and throbbing fingers he saw the pair of panicked, grey eyes wandering over the injuries on his face, and Keith couldn’t deny the relief blanketing over his embarrassment. He blamed it on the exhaustion and pain.

 

‘No one else.’, he whispered, flicking his eyes to the side in a silent plea where he assumed Curtain was standing. Shiro furrowed his eyebrows and pressed his lips together, scanning over Keith’s body.

 

‘I got this, Curtis… go ahead.’, Shiro said, already taking out his wand. So his name was Curtis. He’d memorize it now. Probably.

 

‘Shiro, I’ll go get help…’, the Hufflepuff called, coming into Keith’s line of sight, his head still unable to move. Shiro answered without averting his eyes from Keith’s injuries.

 

‘Curtis, please. Trust me, alright?’, he pleaded, leaving the other student with an unsure expression, eyes darting back and forth between Keith’s pitiful figure and Shiro’s resolved stance.

 

‘I don’t think this is a good idea, but fine. I trust you, Shiro. Good luck, both of you.’ With that he walked away, turning around the corner with a last glance back, steps quickly turning silent in the distance. Shiro leaned back to point his wand towards Keith.

 

‘I’ll lift the spell, okay? Lean on my if you have to.’

 

‘I don’t …’, Keith started, but Shiro had already muttered _Finite incantatem_ , and to his surprise and embarrassment his knees just gave out immediately. He slumped down, arms useless and devoid of blood from having been suspended in the air for so long. Shiro caught him under his arms, apparently already having expected as much.

 

Being able to move again made the pain simultaneously better and worse, and Keith couldn't suppress a frustrated groan as he tried to steady himself somehow. His face and fingers were pulsing angrily while his ribs stung whenever he moved his torso. The least torment originated from his groin, that had somehow recovered the quickest. Steadying himself on shaky legs he tried to grab Shiro’s shoulders only to pull back with a wince. At least two fingers on each hand hand fractures, rendering them unhelpful.

 

‘I got you.’, Shiro murmured. ‘Where do you need to go?’

  
  


……………………………………

  
  


They ended up in the owlery. I was not the most hygienic place, but they were sure not to run into anyone there, and since Keith was propping most of his weight onto Shiro he hadn’t wanted to walk far. With a little glowing orb floating in the air above them they had huddled into a corner of the ground floor that was mostly void of bird excrements.

 

‘It’s too cold here.’, Shiro said, mumbling _Ferula_ at Keith’s right middle finger whose bone cracked back into its intended position with an ugly noise. Thin bandages wrapped around it magically, finishing up the repairs on one of his hands. Keith had been silent throughout the whole ordeal except for a few futile attempts of sending Shiro away as soon as he had let him slip down onto the wooden planks of the tower. The Slytherin had been unusually quiet as well, which gave Keith’s mind nothing else to do than focus on either his pain or the touch of warm fingers against his clammy ones. He was too exhausted to be bashful and relaxed into the contact.

 

‘How does it feel?’, Shiro asked as Keith slowly inspected his fingers. He only hummed and let his head hang again. Shiro was good with healing spells, but at a time when pain felt like making amends for his own stupidity, being taken care of only made him feel worse. Warmth enclosed his hand carefully from two sides.

 

‘Who did this to you?’, Shiro finally asked, and no matter how often Keith had gone over the question in his head he wasn’t able to answer truthfully. Partly because he had let himself be goaded into another fight within a few days, but mainly because the whole reason for the confrontation had been his self-deprecating decision to give up on making the evening work. Shiro didn’t give up.

 

‘Keith, what happened? Please.’ A hand under his chin tilted his head upwards and he let it happen, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor.

 

‘Nothing.’, he mumbled.

 

‘Was it Rollo again? He was just talking to me this evening, that…’

 

‘NO. No…’, he stumbled a bit over his words when suddenly he remembered. He searched Shiro’s eyes, his face trying to convey the stubborn plea.

 

‘There’s almost nothing I haven’t been through before, so please don’t fend for me.’, he said, studying Shiro’s reaction. His eyebrows went up in surprised recollection of the same words he himself had used on Keith after the incident with Rollo. Shiro exhaled loudly and pressed his lips together.

 

Keith didn’t expect the sudden breach of his personal space when Shiro leaned in and touched his forehead against the Gryffindor’s. His heart leapt up at the unforeseen contact, freezing him into place without the need of a spell this time.

 

‘Using my own words against me. Cheap.’ Shiro’s eyes were locked onto their hands which were still sandwiched together between them.

 

‘Just tell me… does this happen… frequently?’, he asked, the carefulness in his voice making obvious he didn’t want to ask the question hanging heavy in the room. _Are you being bullied._ Keith had been asked that before. The answer was always the same.

 

‘I can fight my own battles.’, he replied, leaning back and trying to pull his hands out of Shiro’s. It didn’t feel like he deserved all the sympathy and worry, having played an essential part in escalating the earlier situation. He could have taken it quietly, but he hadn’t.

 

Shiro grasped his hand a bit firmer and pulled it back. Usually the Slytherin let him retreat whenever he tried to. The surprise on Keith’s face seemed to unsettle Shiro, however not enough to let go.

 

‘I know you can, Keith. Just… know you don’t have to.’

 

Shiro’s eyes were open and sincere and reflected the light coming from the windows. The words had never been said for Keith, still they shouldn’t have had an impact that severe It felt like someone had slapped him. They stung in a different way than his broken fingers or the cut on his cheek, making his stomach clench and face muscles tighten.

 

He felt the water in his eyes and helplessness overcame him like a wave. Biting his lips Keith looked up into the night sky, trying to blink away the excess of salty liquid before it could overflow, and Shiro was tactful enough to ignore it. The next time the Gryffindor pulled his hand away Shiro let it go. They were sitting opposite each other in silence, watching the nocturnal birds’ arrivals and departures.

 

Keith was brooding. The most unsettling realisation was how little control he had over his own emotions, and he felt ashamed for acting like a brat throughout the last few hours. He wanted to take things easy so badly, but it wouldn’t work when it came to Shiro, to his parents, to Kolivan or Sven. All the instances he had lost his temper had been when his relationship to people he cared for stood on the line, and he remembered his life being a lot simpler before he had gotten close to Shiro. Simpler and lonelier. Simpler and less happy.

 

Keith felt like he should be apologizing to and thanking the Slytherin who was obviously shivering opposite him in the cold December night, the heating of the owlery getting the temperature only to lousy 50 degrees. Somehow the words wouldn’t leave his tongue. Instead he decided to lay his other hand on top of the Slytherin’s. One of his fingers had swollen up pretty nastily and throbbed with pain, but in that moment he didn't care. Shiro shot him an unsure glance.

 

‘Help me with this?’, Keith almost whispered, not wanting to disturb the eerie silence of the tower. It was more than a request for a healing spell, and he trusted Shiro to know. The Slytherin turned Keith’s fingers around with a sad smile and took out his wand anew.

 

_Ferula_


	19. Quod nix cadit

_ Our carriage leaves in 20. Be there. _

 

A slight buzz against his thigh had prompted Keith to reach into his pocket and pull out the instant messaging parchment Pidge had given him. The vibrations were something new, meaning the Ravenclaw had probably bewitched it to get their message across in time. He furrowed his brows and stuffed it back. Hogsmeade had entirely lost its appeal, even after carefully reflecting on the evening at the Holt’s place and coming to the conclusion he had nothing to brood about. In theory.

 

His nose had not been broken fortunately, even if the dark bruises under both his eyes tried to tell a different story. Saturday morning his body had felt like an Entrumpet had attempted to trample him to death, which hadn’t spared him from taking care of the Thestral stables or cleaning the whole collection of student brooms next to Rollo, whose black eye had faded into an ugly greenish yellow.

 

‘We shine bright like a diamond.’ Rollo had snorted, and after Keith’s initial confusion had fallen into a long recollection about the most influential pop singers of the twenty first century.

 

It wasn’t that Keith didn’t know Rihanna. He just didn’t particularly care for pop.

 

Another buzz of the parchment pulled him from his recollection of the day before and the slow sipping of his coffee. He didn’t feel like answering, and even if he decided to go to Hogsmeade he’d prefer riding a carriage alone. Maybe he could just take one of the left over Thestrals and ride it into town. Snorting about the obscure image of a teenager riding thin air into the small village he took another bite of his toast when he noticed warmth against his thigh.

 

Touching his fingers against his pockets to confirm he wasn’t imagining it he felt the magical piece of stationary not only vibrate but also getting increasingly hotter with every passing second it was being ignored. Keith cursed Pidge in his mind when he pulled it out and read the latest message.

 

_ It is going to start peeping if you keep ignoring me. Your decision, buddy. _

 

With a sigh he rummaged through his messenger bag until he found the black fountain pen somewhere on the bottom between used tissues and a few Sickles clinking about.

 

_ I’m not going. _

 

The answer came back quickly. He looked around, but the Gremlin was not to be seen anywhere on the Ravenclaw table. Neither was her brother.

 

_ You have a pie date with Matt. If you break his heart I’ll break your neck. _

 

_ Charming, Pidgeon. Let me eat breakfast in peace. _

 

A  _ shoo  _ above Keith gave him short notice of the Daily Prophet being dropped onto him. It ricocheted off his head and flopped onto his empty plate. On the cover there was a huge photo of a man in a suit and tie, trying to cover the camera with his hand. The caption above it read  _ Ministry micromanaging Muggleborns.  _ Keith didn’t feel like reading the scaremongering article that would probably not provide any further information about the actual cause behind the disappearances.

 

The Quidditch editorial was mainly about one of Russia’s players magically enhancing his performance. As Keith was looking through the pages in search for a mention of the Junior League someone dropped onto the bench next to him, and he didn’t have to look over to know who it was.

 

‘What do you want?’, he scoffed, still scanning the newspaper.

 

‘Good morning to you too, Mullet! I noticed you sitting over here all by your lonesome self and it broke my little heart.’, Lance preached, snagging a grape out of the fruit bowl in front of them and tossing them towards his mouth. It was probably supposed to impress Keith, but all it did was force his eyes into an unnerved roll and back to his newspaper.

 

‘Ooof, so cold. That’s exactly the reason why you need a friend like me. You don’t have to put up those walls anymore Keith. Lancey boy is here to support you.’

 

A hand landed on Keith’s shoulder and he finally let his Daily Prophet fall to the table and death glared at his fellow Gryffindor. Lance didn’t falter under his gaze and Keith sighed.

 

‘What’s wrong with you?’, he muttered, more for his own sake of sanity than to offend Lance, but the other froze immediately. His features contorted from faked glee into something sour and sad within a second, the hand on Keith’s shoulder slipping down. 

 

‘Am I that easy to read?’, he chuckled sadly. Huh. Keith had absolutel not meant to be reassuring, but somehow had come across supportive. The Gryffindor next to him had slumped down to half his size and was nervously cracking his knuckles under the table. Usually Keith went his way and left Lance to the mercy of other Gryffindors in the hall, but Rollo and Nyma were nowhere to be seen and the other students were either still fast asleep or already done eating. He sighed again.

 

A month ago he would have probably just abandoned Lance there. A month ago he hadn’t had the patience nor sympathy for Lance’s overdramatic antics. However the joined training sessions, their morning in the infirmary and the talk before the Holt’s party had shown him a side of the Gryffindor that made him more agreeable, his moods almost comprehensible under the humorous mask. 

 

Keith rested his face in his hands and looked expectantly at Lance. 

 

‘I’m just being emotional.’, Lance admitted, letting his head hang, reaching for another grape, popping it into his mouth with less motivation this time. 

 

‘That’s nothing new.’, Keith retorted, contemplating if another cup of coffee would make him fidgety for the rest of the day. Lance lips turned pouty before he dropped his head onto the table and groaned.

 

‘Why do I always fall in love with the girls that treat me like garbage…’, he howled into the wooden surface. Keith wasn’t sure how to react so he just waited for Lance’s next course of action while filling up his cup with black tea. Tea should keep him awake just fine. As he was taking his third or fourth sip the head of dark brown hair turned towards him with short, jerky motions, close to some creature he had once seen in a horror movie. An unexpected idea shot into Keith’s head.

 

It was Lance. He could actually try this. Without thinking too much about it Keith put his hand on the other Gryffindor’s shoulder experimentally. Lance looked up at him with puppy eyes rivaling Kosmo’s, a lonely tear glistening in one of them. He sniffed once to highlight his suffering and then grabbed the bunch of grapes left in the bowl, eating them right off the stalk. 

 

‘Fank you Keef…’, Lance wailed, spitting tiny pieces of grape over the surface of the heavy table. Although the display in front of Keith was unnecessarily dramatic and pathetic at best, but the fact that a simple shoulder squeeze was able to cheer another person up gave him a new sense of confidence. 

 

‘I knew you were a good guy, Mullet. I’m really glad you made the team.’, Lance sniffed after having swallowed the last pieces of fruit, placing his own hand on Keith’s shoulder. Their position was a bit awkward, sitting opposite each other on the same bench with uncomfortably twisted torsos, each of their hands on the other’s shoulder, and Keith felt like people were giving him weird stares. From the Slytherin table he saw a jolly head with a silver floof of hair watch their interaction with an amused smile on his lips. Keith felt heat creep into his cheeks. It was his cue to leave.

 

When he tried to stand up though, the pressure from Lance’s hand kept him on his seat. Keith cocked an eyebrow at him as a chance to explain himself. Lance smiled at him with pressed lips.

 

‘Hey… Do you already have a ride to Hogsmeade? Rollo and Nyma ditched me. We could  _ carriagepool _ ?’

 

There were those puppy eyes again. Keith had probably interacted with more magical beasts than humans in his life and was usually unfazed by manipulative tactics of that sort. Lance being the fourth person to ask him to go to Hogsmeade that weekend boosted his confidence weirdly at the same time as it stressed him out. 

 

Keith had been thinking a lot about the Quidditch party at the Holt’s. More than his magnetic pull towards Shiro there was this old desire to belong to a group of people that he had buried under layers of teenage angst and spite after failing at making friends during his first year. He hadn’t felt that way for a long time now, and it simultaneously reopened old wounds and reawakened that silent resolve to do better.

 

‘Alright. Lets  _ carriagepool. _ ’, Keith said, the word almost physically hurting him.

 

Lance eyes widened in delighted surprise. 

  
  
  


…………………………………………………………………..

  
  
  


As it turned out, Lance was far from taking a lonely ride to the magical village a short ride away from the School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. As they walked down the stairs from the Gryffindor tower after changing into their warm robes and boots they stumbled over a familiar broad and friendly face in the entrance hall. Hunk greeted them with a huge smile.

 

‘Loverboy, you brought a date after all?, he chimed, winking mischievously at Keith, who returned the gesture with an irritated furrow of his eyebrows.

 

‘When you’re done basking in my misery, tell me where your sweet princess is? We need to hurry up, I don’t want to get the carriage that smells like rotten eggs!’, Lance grumbled as he bumped into the Hufflepuff's shoulder on purpose, effectively bouncing himself off the bigger guy who wasn’t even bothered by the impact. 

 

‘Just getting a snack for the ride, you can go get your nervous rear out into the cold if you want to snatch one for us? Keith, you ridin’ along?’, Hunk asked, grin not leaving his face. Lance unexpectedly hooked his arm through Keith’s, yanking him ahead.

 

‘Yeah, Keith is  _ my _ new friend now, since all the others have forsaken me.’, Lance pouted and stretched out his tongue towards Hunk, pulling Keith with him who hadn’t overcome the initial surprise over the sudden contact yet.

 

Maybe he could have torn himself from Lance’s grip a bit more gently but he didn’t care at that point. 

 

‘Whoa, man, calm down, I just took your arm!’, Lance protested. Keith threw him an angry glance, but took a breath before he could retort some provocative comment just to express his frustration. 

‘I don’t like being touched.’, he stated, hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, staring ahead. Lance watched him wearily.

 

‘You autistic or something?’

 

‘What?’

 

‘You know, the people who are like super smart but can't look you in the eye or touch you?’, Lance asked when they came to a halt in the courtyard, getting in line to check out with janitor Varkon.

 

‘You’re talking uninformed nonsense again, McClain.’, a sarcastic voice behind them chirped. Keith turned around to find a girl with a high, light brown ponytail Keith only at second glance recognized as Pidge. She threw him a quick and  warning look and then turned back towards Lance, who was already grinning again. Behind her, Matt stepped forward curiously.

 

‘Ouch, you’re always so mean. Keith, this is Ravenclaw Katie and her big bro Matt! Katie, Matt,...’

 

‘Hey, Keith! I didn’t expect we’d ride together!’, Matt said, raising a hand in greeting. His smile was genuine, and Keith nodded to return the sentiment.

 

‘Me neither....’, Pidge said meaningfully, raking him up and down with an amused look. Keith felt like he was expected to explain his sudden change of heart, but shrugged it off and turned back towards the ever closing-in janitor. Between him and the Holt siblings Lance’s eyes were darting back and forth in confused delight. It only increased when Hunk and his girlfriend appeared behind them with a backpack full of flaky baked goods filled with cherry jam.

 

Keith enjoyed the tart sweetness against the buttery, soft dough as he watched the snowy landscape rattle by. The Hogwarts grounds were thoroughly snowed in, about three feet high and with a billion ice crystals reflecting the sunlight at the surface. Shay, Hunk and Matt were eager to talk about funny Quidditch slip-ups during matches, and Keith found himself drawn in and grinning along to some of the stories.

 

‘You can’t imagine Lance’s first game!’, Hunk laughed. ‘He is legit hanging in the air above everyone else looking stoic and focused, but when I close in from behind him to smack him with a Bludger I hear him singing  _ All by myself _ . 50 feet up in the air. I laughed so hard I almost fell off my broom.’

 

‘Don’t forget the time he flew so close to the goalposts his pants got caught and he flew the rest of the match in his boxers? Didn’t you even catch the Snitch?’, Matt chimed in, clapping Lance on the shoulder in a mix of admiration and amusement.

 

‘I did indeed, and I got a very unjust penalty for it, thank you very much.’, Lance pretend-scowled again. 

 

‘How about we talk about someone else for a change? Matt got his ass kicked last year when he tried to block a quaffle and evade two Bludgers at the same time, ending up getting catapulted through the goalpost by all three of the balls at the same time. They even counted it. It was against the Slytherin team, right?’ Matt let out an embarrassed  _ tsk _ .

 

‘Either you’re in it to win it, or you don’t play.’, he scoffed. ‘Even if it turned me into a living quaffle and earned me two agonizing nights in the infirmary.’

 

‘The Slytherin’s Beaters are fierce.’ Keith agreed, the first words he had spoken since they had gotten into the carriage. The others turned to look at him, waiting. He began to stutter.

 

‘I… I mean Zethrid’s amazingly strong, and Shiro’s precision and the force behind his blows are above the average student skill.’, he concluded, hoping the explanation had satisfied his unexpected audience. Hunk on the opposite bench nudged him playfully with his knee, pretending offense.

 

‘Are you saying this isn’t the carriage with the most able Quidditch players Hogwarts has to offer?’ He put a hand on his heart. Keith cocked his head to the side.

 

‘Concerning Seekers maybe… I don’t know about the rest.’, he replied, earning him a  _ BUUURN _ and high five from Lance next to him and an eye roll from Pidge who had taken the window seat vis-á-vis, who flew as Seeker for the Ravenclaw team. Or at least Ravenclaw-Katie did. Still unsure how to interact with her when they were among other people who seemingly didn’t know her other identity he decided to just ignore it for the time being.

 

The rails next to the run-down street gave evidence to their arrival at Hogsmeade. With a short slide the carriage came to a halt, and Keith squeezed outside after Pidge, stretching his limbs and taking in the sight of a clutter of little roofs over shabby wooden houses. If it hadn’t been for the snow and icicles turning everything into a winter wonderland the village would have seemed depressingly dismal. 

 

Filled with a hoard of chattering students and the romantic vibe of a white Christmas closing in though it was almost resurrected from it’s dull routine. Keith patted one of the Thestrals pulling their carriage on the back as he walked by. The black skeleton horse with its leathery wings gave a content wheeze and nudged him in the back. 

 

Their little group walked past the first shrubs that marked the border of Hogsmeade, passing the abandoned house at its outskirts. The Three Broomsticks was the first building on their right, and as expected it was completely stuffed with students when they squeezed their way past the entrance to get at least a seat at the bar or see if they could sit with someone they knew. 

 

Over the loud chatter Keith heard his name being called and discovered Shiro waving at their group from a table in the back, packed to the brim with mostly 8th year students Keith barely recognized. Matt had already started towards them, but the prospect of being crammed in thigh to thigh with strangers sounded too overwhelming to bear. And sweaty. The air was incredibly stifling and humid due to the snow melting from coats and boots, and Madame Rosmerta had meant it a little too well with the heating.

 

Even with Shiro there, he didn’t look forward to the experience. With a heavy heart he apologetically made a helpless gesture towards the Slytherin as Matt tried to squeeze himself in next to Cyrus. Shiro mimicked something towards him that he couldn’t interpret properly and just shrugged his shoulders as he made his way into the cold past another wave of students spilling inside,Lance and the others forgotten.

 

The fresh, crisp air outside was a relief, but it couldn’t get rid of the pang in Keith’s stomach. He felt something tug him into the pub with an invisible force, and he stubbornly stomped down the snowy main road to get away. A few shops were strewn left and right, but he didn’t feel like browsing. For a brief moment he contemplated his initial plan; stealing one of the Thestrals and just riding it back up to the castle. Before he could abandon it though something cold and hard hit him in the back.

 

When he turned around he found Pidge standing a few feet behind him, another snowball already in hand.

 

‘Really?’, he asked, tone dry. Without an answer she hurled the ball towards his chest with incredible speed, and he had to dive to the side to dodge it. A bit annoyed he tried to step back onto the street, but another projectile was already on its way, this time hitting him in his side.

 

‘You little Gremlin…’, he scowled, reaching into the snow himself, only to have her evade his with playful ease. It was a weird experience, neither of them laughing as Keith desperately tried to hit Pidge to no avail. She was just too agile, Ponytail swinging in the air as she dove left and right. 

 

Lance’s head suddenly appeared behind the door to the shop next to them, catching a ball that was about to smack Keith in the chest out of the air with ease.

 

‘The clerk says if you two don’t stop the nonsense in front of her precious windows she’s gonna turn you into fudge flies. By all means go on, I’d love to see that happen.’, he grinned. ‘On a different note, they got the new line of Bertie Bott’s beans, and you wouldn’t believe the flavours they came up with!’ He theatrically stressed some of his words, the earlier heartbreak seemingly forgotten, and then disappeared back into the shop. Pidge and Keith looked at each other with suspicion and silently decided on a truce.

 

‘Why are you a Seeker? Your throws are actually impressive.’, Keith asked her, leaning against the wall of Honeyduke’s, the candy store their group was currently rummaging through. She stood next to him, arms crossed in front of her chest, looking straight ahead onto the snowy street.

 

‘It was the only free position. No way to kick the MFEs off their throne.’ She sounded bitter. Keith raised an eyebrow.

 

‘MFEs?’

 

‘The  _ Magical Flight Elite _ ? James, Kinkade, Ina and Nadia? They have their noses so far up their asses they can see the light at the end of the tunnel.’ Keith snorted violently over the graphic description and the abbreviation, feeling suddenly a lot more fond of Pidge.

 

‘Griffin is a prick.’, was all he said, earning him an intense stare from the Ravenclaw that hovered over his bruised face a bit too long. She didn’t comment on it, just as Keith hadn’t expected her to. In search for something to do while the silence between them grew heavier he glanced at the shop window to his left. Baskets and glass jars filled with colorful candies and treats made it look like a fairytale paradise for children. A small terrarium held about five chocolate frogs that climbed over green sugar resembling sand and some liquorice leaves. Next to it a giant pack of Bertie Bott’s Beans advertised the new flavours they had invented. He had no idea what  _ Surströmming _ was, but he was not eager to find out. 

 

In the back a globe of about a foot in diameter pulsated with a wide array of colors, weirdly opaque and shiny. Only at second glance Keith realized that it was filled with probably hundreds of the disgusting jelly Flubberworms Shiro loved so much. Reaching into his pockets he fingered the coins he had taken with him, expecting only to spend money on food and drinks. Technically, this still counted as food.

 

‘I’m going in.’, he announced, and stepped into the store, closely followed by the Gremlin trailing behind. Warm light, chatter and the smell of burnt sugar surrounded him immediately, and he went straight for the repulsive worms. A voice interrupted him as he was looking through the assortment.

 

‘I rarely meet someone who also likes those.’ A friendly face with long blonde pigtails was bent over to get on his eye level on his squatting position in front of the labels. The girl was wearing baby pink boots tied up to her knees and a fuzzy pastel yellow sweater with a few bees embroidered on it. She was painfully Hufflepuff if one believed into the cliches projected onto the people and their houses. Only the tattooesque markings on her cheeks threw him off. It was probably the reason he acknowledged the stranger, his interest was peaked.

 

‘Those are Altean markings.’, he said, more of a statement than a question. Her smiled grew a little forced.

 

‘You’re right. Why do you ask?’

 

It was common knowledge and obviously a trap. The Alteans were a huge influential family and all of them went to Slytherin. Allura and Lotor, Hogwarts’ show off couple, both belonged to very distant branches of it, as well as Professor Alfor. Luka was the only other Althean he knew of not being in Slytherin, but if you went after the motto of cunning, ambitious and loyal she might as well have gone there. When he didn’t answer the girl let out a sigh.

 

‘Sorry, I always get defensive when people ask about my markings. I am probably the worst Altean ever, and I never hear the end of it. I didn’t want to assume you were having prejudices.’, she said with a little smile, squatting down beside him and poking a worm back into the gap where it tried to escape its glass confinement.

 

‘I’m Romelle.’ She held a hand up towards him, and he shook it.

 

‘Keith.’

 

‘Well, Keith, they had a few new flavors of gummy worms delivered for today. They got After Eight, pistachio and my personal favourite, Liquorice-cherry.’

 

‘You’re kidding…’, Keith exhaled. Cherries started to haunt him. But looking at the ink-black worms laced with red marbling that looked like blood he was almost certain Shiro would like them. 

 

‘I think they might be perfect.’, he murmured more to himself than to her, but she still lit up, handing him a bag and tongs.

  
  


………………………………………

  
  


,I need a hot butterbeer to warm me up. The Three Broomsticks shouldn’t be that packed by now, right?’, Shay asked the four other shivering figures wading through the snow that had started falling while they had browsed through Honeyduke’s, Zonko’s and Madame Puddifoot’s. Keith had trailed along, mainly listening to the other’s conversations and giving a small piece of his mind here or there. He felt the energy draining out of him though the more time passed by, and additionally had spent most of his money on the disgusting Flubberworms and a new sketchbook with a lovely, rustic looking leather cover and inset pencil. 

 

Not feeling the urge to explain himself being broke to the others he just stayed back at the entrance, basking in the warmth of the room. Shiro was nowhere to be seen, which motivated him even more to retreat towards the castle. His stomach was beginning to rumble and if he took a Thestral now he should be able to send it back in time for the others to make it back.

 

The snow had started to fall heavy from an ever greying sky and he had almost gotten to the carriages parked under a roofed porch to protect them from the weather. Before he could reach them something moved at the corner of his field of vision. A few feet to his right something silvery was hovering in the air, glinting whenever a weak lightray caught its reflective surface. 

 

It was like a cautionary children’s tale, but instead of candy the victim was lured in with something shiny. Keith looked around, but not a soul was to be seen. A step towards the item revealed a silvery pocket flask he recognized. With a grin he took a few steps towards it, but it hopped just out of reach as he grabbed for it. He heard a rustle coming from behind the wooden construction that shaded the carriages and decided to beat the other at his own game.

 

Keith went into stealth mode, falling into a crouch and quickly slipping between the Thestrals’ legs. The creatures knew him and only let out an annoyed huff when he threaded his lithe body around them to emerge at the other end. Rounding the corner, just as he had expected, he saw a broad back and a tuft of silver hair, now looking a little unsure, having lost track of his target. 

 

He contemplated throwing a snowball, but thought of something better. Silently he kept low to the ground and closed in on Shiro, preparing to sweep one of his legs and chucking him face first into the snow. 

 

How Shiro had seen him he didn’t know. Just as he slipped his foot between the Slytherin’s and tried to grab at his shoulders Shiro ducked to the side, effectively yanking Keith forward and flingin him over his outstretched calf onto the ground. Keith instinctively clutched Shiro’s underarm to prevent getting a mouthful of snow, and their joined weight made them overbalance into the white cold.

 

Once again he was crushed under Shiro’s heavy frame, the chest pressed to his shaking with laughter, taking Keith’s breath away with every heave. 

 

‘You’re heavy, get off!’, Keith protested with a sneer when Shiro lifted himself up a few inches to wipe the snowflakes off his reddened cheeks, grinning dorkily. He shoved ineffectively at Shiro’s shoulder, making the Slytherin’s grin turn wicked and dropping all his weight onto Keith now, propping his head on his arms over Keith’s chest in a mocked imitation of guilelessness. 

 

‘Me? Heavy? I don’t know what you’re talking about.’, Shiro teased as Keith felt the air pressed out of him, and he started huffing and hitting the other into his heavily padded sides, trying to throw him off balance through twisting and turning his torso, but Shiro’s sheer mass was too much. His legs straddling Keith’s and the full 200 pounds weighing him down relentlessly. 

 

‘That’s what you get for trying to sneak in on me, Cherrybomb.’, Shiro grinned. Keith could see his reflection in Shiro’s eyes. He still looked pretty pathetic with the bruising under his eyes, but there was no sympathy on Shiro’s face. It looked affectionate, despide the wicked smile, and spurred on by his faster beating heart pumping him full of Adrenaline Keith decided to tease back for once. Bridging the distance between their noses until they touched he felt a rush of satisfaction over a dropping smile and eyes wide in surprise. He felt Shiro draw in a breath, and it made him drunk with power, the pulse drumming in his ear only spurring him on further.

 

‘Punk.’, Keith whispered, his breath misty clouds between the last two inches separating their cheeks, and Shiro must have felt the heat of it judging by the color bleeding onto his face. With a swift upwards motion Keith did the only thing left to do.

 

His hips bucked up at the same time as his hands hooked under Shiro’s armpits and pushed him skywards and above his head, giving him the opportunity to roll out under the Slytherin. Shiro, who had landed on his stomach, pushed up and looked at Keith in surprise before he fell into a fit of laughter. 

 

‘You’re really something.’, he huffed, heaving himself up onto his feet and scrambling through the snow in front of him in search for his flask. Keith waited for him, grinning, cheeks flushed and heart upbeat. He took the silver container from the Slytherin’s hands, enjoying the burn of Firewhiskey down his esophagus and in his empty stomach. Shiro took a swing, not even trying to suppress the cough this time.

 

‘I really don’t know why you like that stuff. Apart from the fact that you are far too young to be drinking it so smoothly.’, Shiro said, hitting Keith in the shoulder playfully. Keith snatched his arm and squeezed Shiro’s wrist. He was on a high, the alcohol prickling through his body into his bloodstream like a swarm of ants, adrenaline racing through his veins making him bold and daring. 

 

‘Why do you drink it if you can’t handle it?’, Keith retorted, head cocked teasingly to the side. He grabbed the flask and took another sip, Shiro’s arm still in his grasp. A spark ignited in Shiro’s eyes. The Slytherin reached for Keith’s hand still holding the Whiskey, twisting it into an almost painful position to make him pour the alcohol down his throat to the last drop. 

 

The bob of Shiro’s adam’s apple as he swallowed caused Keith’s lower stomach to tighten and he gulped inaudibly. Whatever game they were playing at, he felt like he was losing. Shiro eyed him as he lowered Keith’s hand again, not letting him draw it back though. 

 

‘Because you like it.’, Shiro said, eyes watery from the sting, flashing him a crooked smile.

 

Keith had definitely lost that round.

  
  


………………………………………………

  
  
  


Keith couldn’t really concentrate on the conversations in the carriage on their ride back up to the castle. He was proud of the amount of socializing he had managed that day, and the unexpected interaction with Shiro had left him high spirited and content. Someone hit him in the arm.

 

‘I swear, it’s the same face he had the last time he got in suspiciously late. Did you ditch us to meet your secret lover, Mullet?’ Lance teased, confusing Keith for a moment. He decided the best course of action would be ignorance, as Lance usually took any kind of verbal response as confirmation. 

 

‘Keith, you dog, was it the blonde cutie from Zonko’s?’, Matt chimed in. Keith only rolled his eyes at the window. To his surprise, Hunk stepped in.

 

‘Leave him be, guys, don’t you see you’re making him uncomfortable? Besides, the color of his face says enough…’, he chuckled. So much for support. Pidge opposite him was mirroring his position with an elbow propped up on the window, watching the darkening sky silently as the grounds passed by. 

 

Later, up in the Gryffindor Tower when they were getting ready for the night Lance tried one last time.

 

‘Hey..’

 

‘What is it now?’

 

‘Was it really the cute blonde from the candy shop? If not, do you think could you introduce me?’

 

A pillow was hurled through the shared bedroom, hitting Lance in the head with precision, eliciting a loud  _ OOF. _

 

‘Alright, keep her all to yourself, greedy bastard. You deserve your pillowless torture, I’m keeping it. Good night.’

 

‘Lance…’, Keith growled.

 

‘I SAID GOOD NIGHT, SIR!’

  
_ Still worth it _ Keith thought as he bunched up his comforter into a makeshift cushion.


	20. Stricta Amplectaris Me

 

‘Looked like you had a good time yesterday.’

 

Keith was standing in the doorway to a little chamber way down in the dungeons, in a corridor close to where the entrance to the Slytherin dorms must have been located. It was cold and damp, and he didn’t know why Pidge had chosen such an uncomfortable place to do his research. Her research. Seeing the girl in front of him with chin-length hair, a wide shirt and boyfriend jeans, he had to actively remind himself of the fact he had misjudged her gender, probably without her even realizing it. 

 

He purposely ignored her inquiry, reaching out a hand and making a demanding gesture towards his palm with his fingers. His ring was placed in his hands reluctantly, and he slipped it over his head and under his shirt. It felt natural against his bare skin, albeit a little cold. Keith looked up again and found Pidge eyeing him curiously. 

 

‘Why do you play pretend?’ The question had been stuck on Keith’s tongue since the party a few days earlier, and he had a few theories. Rather than guess he’d prefer having them confirmed. Pidge grimaced.

 

‘I thought you were smarter… Have you forgotten my story about the stone? My Dad? I’d be in a hell of trouble if he found out. Despite that, I’m sure my parents wouldn't appreciate me marauding around the castle, especially after curfew.’

 

‘So even if someone else saw you, they wouldn’t be able to tell…’, Keith muttered. 

  
  


‘Thanks, Captain Obvious. And it worked, you had no idea who I was before the party.’ Pidge raised her eyebrows to stress the statement. 

 

‘That’s only because I had no idea who Ravenclaw Katie was…’, Keith crossed his arms in front of his chest. He  _ had _ recognized her immediately, even with her fake ponytail and lack of glasses. She looked at him in fake offense.

 

‘You watched me fly in matches for about a year now and still had no clue.’, she mocked. ‘ _ Parchment _ me on Friday.’

 

‘Still not a verb. Besides, won’t you be at the game?’, Keith asked with a confused look on his face. The game Gryffindor against Ravenclaw would be happening that Thursday, and he was hoping Acxa would finally allow him to train again. After the fight with Rollo they were both still spending the trainings doing physical drills on the ground and cleaning up equipment and changing rooms. Pidge’s eyes widened in remembrance, mouthing a silent  _ oh _ .

 

‘Thursday then…’, Keith smiled with pressed lips and shuffled out of the clammy room to make his way up to the library. Shiro was already there, having occupied a special corner of the floor that had cushioned floorboards and fluffy pillows against the walls. He had taken off his shoes and the green-grey socks fit perfectly to his ever immaculate uniform. Only when Keith got closer he noticed little stars and planets embroidered with silvery thread. It was adorable. Painfully so. 

 

His own, mismatched pair consisting of one red-striped and one black sock made him feel a bit embarrassed, but Shiro only smiled at him weakly when he noticed the emo-style footwear approaching from where he was hunched over his book. He looked pretty awful, dark rings under his eyes and his hair tuft seeming a lot less floofed than usual. Keith let himself flop down into the thickly padded floor next to him, causing a few of the loose pages to flutter about and Shiro to bounce slightly, which made the Slytherin chuckle.

 

A shelf next to them provided a bit of privacy from the rest of the library’s patrons, so Keith almost didn’t flinch when Shiro let his head drop down onto his shoulder. His breath was burning against Keith’s neck and he awkwardly patted the Slytherin’s shoulders while feeling the heat creep into his face.

 

‘You okay, Golden Boy?’, Keith asked, letting his hand rest on Shiro’s back. Shiro only gave off a muffled  _ mmh _ , and he took it as permission to keep it there. He felt the Slytherin take in a deep breath before sitting up and leaning against the pillows on the wall, letting his head fall back and rubbing his eyes. Keith watched and waited for him to say something on his own accord beside some quiet groans. 

 

‘I think I didn’t sleep.’, Shiro finally said. ‘It feels like I’ve been awake for a week. Coffee is useless at this point.’ He sneered, probably to make the whole ordeal seem less grave. Keith scrunched his eyebrows. Shiro shoved at his shoulder jokingly.

 

‘Don’t look like I’m dying, I’m just being a baby.’, he said. Keith didn’t return the smile.

 

‘You  _ do _ look like you’re dying.’, he said, face dead serious. Shiro stilled for a moment, studying Keith, who could only hold in the grin for so long. He was punished with a firm grip at his neck, the hand pushing his head down and closer to Shiro’s so the other students at the library wouldn’t notice their playful banter.

 

‘I am deeply hurt. As a year your senior I demand a little more respect.’ Shiro’s smile was wicked and bright and really close, and for a second it triggered Keith’s flight response, but the Slytherin’s fingers didn’t bulge when he tried to jerk back. Keith squinted his brows. Shiro was still looking at his face, eyes darting back and forth between Keith’s. He bumped his forehead against Keith’s with a little more force than would’ve been necessary, and released him. Suppressing the  _ ouch _ on his lips, Keith rubbed over the assaulted spot and threw Shiro a confused look. He only got a guileless face and a shrug in return.

  
  


‘I brought you something.’, he said, pushing a huge book over to Keith apologetically. It was dark blue and had gold embellished rings and lines running all over its cover. On the front there were some signs he couldn’t read. With a question on his face he flipped it open somewhere in the middle to find a breathtaking print of a galaxy unknown to him. Clouds in blues and orange tones swirled around a glowing white center and he instinctively got a bit closer to take in all the details. 

 

He didn’t see Shiro’s face turn soft over his reaction, utterly immersed into flicking through the pages filled with photos of different nebulas, comets, supernovas and galaxies. The captions beneath unfortunately didn’t provide any useful information since it was all in edged symbols Keith assumed were Japanese signs.

 

‘Can you read that?’, he asked Shiro, eyes still fixed on the book, pointing to a photo with red and orange hues that looked like someone had edited the picture of a long waterfall right into space. It reminded him of the pictures people sometimes made with spray cans to sell to tourists. It looked unreal. Shiro laned closer and over the book.

 

‘That’s H-222, the  _ Waterfall Nebula _ . It’s about 1500 light years away. The cool thing about it is that scientist aren’t sure what causes its form since it doesn’t emit any x-rays that would hint towards a black hole, pulsar or similar objects.’

 

‘I have no clue what you just said. That’s all in those six little symbols?’, Keith inquired, looking at the Japanese characters with almost the same amount of fascination as at the picture. 

 

‘No. But it’s one of my favourites. I’ve spent hours studying at that photo.’ That made Keith look up for the first time since opening the book, only now realizing how close Shiro had leaned in. The Slytherin was supporting his body with a hand behind Keith’s back and he could feel the warmth emanating from the body next to him where his side connected to Keith’s shoulder. 

 

They had switched, now Shiro being the one looking affectionately into the book while Keith’s eyes were glued to his face. 

 

‘If you look over at this one, it’s called  _ The Hand Of God _ , and has a planet that spins around itself seven times per second. Its gravity would crush anything on Earth into the ground.’, Shiro pointed at another page and Keith had to forcefully tear himself from his face and back into the book. The picture was breathtaking.

 

‘The idea that something like this exists out there is so bizarre,’, Keith murmured. Shiro next to him nodded in agreement.

‘I think I would have become an astronaut if I had been a Muggle. I always wanted to fly in some way. Too bad the wizarding world doesn’t have jobs like that.’, he chuckled, absentmindedly running a finger over the Japanese characters under a photo of a red, angular hourglass like shape with white light emitting from where the tips of the two triangles touched in the middle. 

 

‘You could do it after school?’, Keith prompted. Shiro took the book from Keith’s lap and closed it slowly.

 

‘I already have plans after school.’, he smiled, not providing any further information about them. It painfully reminded Keith that their time together had an expiration date. Every instance he remembered it the little sting in his chest hurt a bit more. The Slytherin didn’t seem to notice, holding the book up to Keith.

 

‘If you want, I can lend it to you. You can’t read it, but the pictures are all real photographs and incredibly beautiful.’

 

Keith’s heart felt warm and fuzzy as he took the heavy volume and placed it next to his bag, it being way too big to fit into it. 

 

‘Thank you. I’ll be careful with it.’, he said. The sudden warmth on his hand froze him for a second, but he kept his fingers were they were resting on his own knee and looked at Shiro to get an indication of the meaning behind the gesture. He was met with an open, vulnerable expression, smiling but yet a bit rueful, and it confused his already foggy mind that refused to form coherent thoughts, only perceiving the warmth of Shiro’s palm against the back of his hand.

 

Why had they met up in the library again? He had forgotten.

  
  
  


……………………………..

  
  
  
  


They were on the way to the Entrance Hall. Keith had Quidditch Training while Shiro was retreating to the Slytherin Common rooms to do some more studying. They had managed to open up their potions books, but Keith felt like nothing had actually stuck to his brain. Clutching the Astronomy volume to his chest happily he thought he’d probably have to go up to the Gryffindor Tower to find a safe spot for it in the trunk under his bed. 

 

A stifled yawn from the Slytherin beside him made Keith glance over. Shiro looked distinctly worse than usual, and the rings under his eyes seemed to have gotten even darker since they had met up. 

 

‘Take a nap?’, Keith suggested.

 

‘That won’t help.’, Shiro sighed. He hesitated when Keith looked at him, questions on his face. With a bashful expression the Slytherin looked away, hand scratching at the base of his head. It was his universal gesture of discomfort, and Keith gave him a supportive nudge from his shoulder. Shiro shrugged.

 

‘The moment I fall asleep I wake up again. I manage between five and thirty minutes, but after that I always find myself sitting upright, exhausted, sweaty and disoriented. It’s… straining.’

 

‘You’re having nightmares?’, Keith shot out. Shiros eyebrows went up.

 

‘I … well yeah. It’s not that bad, I just need to… well.’ Shiro struggled to get the words out, and Keith, fueled from the earlier incident in the library, took his underarm. He had initially aimed for Shiro’s fingers, but that was an achievement for a bolder day, so he settled for a supportive squeeze, bringing them both to a halt in front of a window looking out over the courtyard. A group of students playing with hacky sacks had captured Shiro’s attention who was either looking for a way out of the conversation or for the right way to assemble his reply.

 

‘You don’t need to tell me, Shiro.’, Keith assured, fingers still wrapped around the other’s underarm. His hand seemed small against the strong limb, covering only half of its circumference. Shiro was giant, but he never seemed to notice it unless he was consciously looking for their differences. Shiro never made him feel younger or weaker, so neither should he, Keith thought with determination. He smiled at the Slytherin, and it was genuine. Shiro in return looked exhausted.

 

‘I go to therapy.’, he sighed, eyes wandering slowly to Keith as if they expected judgment. When Keith’s expression remained unchanged, he continued.

 

‘After what happened with my family… it was a hard time, and it’s not a story for a quick talk in a corridor. The thing is I have nightmares almost every night. But therapy helps.’

 

‘That why you skip on the Slytherin training twice a week?’, Keith asked, catching Shiro, who had probably expected a different question, off guard. He nodded.

 

‘That’s good.’, Keith said with a final squeeze and let go of Shiro’s hand to continue walking into the direction of the entrance hall. Shiro was trailing next to him, curious and cautious.

 

‘You don’t think I’m crazy because I need therapy?’, he asked with a self-spreciating chuckle. Keith raised an eyebrow.

 

‘Honestly, I think all of us are nuts one way or another, I’m kinda glad you’re not perfect.’ That made Shiro grin and squeeze the back of Keith’s neck tightly as if he where a Kitten to be picked up, eliciting a hiss out of the Gryffindor.

 

‘You’re quick tongue is really going to get you into trouble one day.’, Shiro laughed as Keith swatted at the hand on his neck.

 

‘Shut up, you love it.’, Keith snorted, stomach doing a somersault the picosecond after the words had left his lips. Again. Judging by the amused look on Shiro’s face, he remembered the last time Keith had prompted him with the same sentence, giving a similar nswer.

 

‘You’re lucky I do.’

 

This time though, instead of looking away sheepishly, Keith held Shiro’s gaze, both expressions soft and full of relief. Shiro was the first to speak again.

 

‘I want to hug you, Keith. For a while now. I feel like  _ thank you _ can’t properly convey how grateful I am. But I know you probably wouldn’t be comfortable, so just… feel hugged, I guess? I don’t care how unmanly that sounds.’ Shiro said, voice turning quieter the closer they got to the Entrance hall which was visible at the end of the corridor they were walking down. Shiro’s cheeks had turned a darker shade of pink, his hands looking unfamiliar, hidden inside the Slytherin’s pockets.

 

Keith had a few things he wanted to say simultaneously, but in the end none of them made it past his tongue. The universal meaning behind them remained the same though.

 

_ Hug me. _

 

Maybe it was better he didn’t say anything, because in retrospect it sounded plain desperate, which wasn’t even a lie. Despite his aversion against body contact, the idea of wrapping his arms around Shiro’s huge frame, supporting the Slytherin’s weight along with his problems and worries seemed like an incredibly empowering thing to do, and there hadn’t been any instances lately in which close proximity to Shiro’s person had made him uncomfortable. 

 

Keith had never explicitly formed the words in his mind, but the longing had definitely been there. It was what friends did after all, Lance was constantly flinging himself around the neck of everyone around him, and the girls in the corridors were even more affectionate towards each other.

 

Before Keith had noticed they had bridged the distance over to the door leading down the stairs to the dungeons. Shiro looked back at him one more time and smiled, before he turned the handle and walked through it with a  _ See you tomorrow _ .

 

Without a second to spare Keith slipped in after. The lights were dim and had a blue tint to them, the air immediately a few degrees colder. He grabbed Shiro at the wrist and pulled him back around towards him. Keith was met with a surprised expression. The huge book still in his hand made the hug a bit awkward, nevertheless he wrapped both his hands around the Slytherin’s waist as well as he could, resting his chin atop a shoulder. His touch was light and experimental, holding the other without too much pressure, waiting for a reaction. 

 

Shiros muscles relaxed under him and suddenly he was almost completely engulfed by the Slytherin’s larger frame, strong arms wrapping around his shoulders and upper back, head nudged against the crook of his neck. It was warm and heavy and all around him, like a thick comforter in winter or the sun shining down on you in spring, when the weather was still cold. He could lose himself in it. When Shiro squeezed him tighter, so did Keith. 

 

With no idea how long hugs were supposed to last he just waited and enjoyed the feeling of holding someone and being held in return. Shiro’s warmth and smell were intoxicating, making him drunk on a hormonal cocktail he had never experienced before and it was exciting as much as it was relaxing. 

 

‘Your heart is racing.’, Shiro whispered into the silence. Keith only nodded, and Shiro pulled back just a little so they were face to face. Suddenly he felt embarrassment creeping into his cheeks, but he stubbornly held Shiro’s gaze. 

 

‘I don’t think I ever hugged someone… at least in the last few years.’, Keith admitted, and Shiro’s eyes turned into something that made him feel inadequate all of a sudden. Shiro seemed to notice, pressing Keith into him again and squeezing him tight.

 

‘If you ever feel like you need a hug, I have a pretty infinite supply of those.’, Shiro whispered again. It made Keith snort in surprise, putting a hand on the Slytherin’s hip and pushing back slightly. Shiro took the hint and pulled away, sliding both his hands onto Keith’s shoulders. Keith made a curious expression.

 

‘Humor to cope with uncomfortable situations. Did you learn that in therapy?’, he teased, a little voice in the back of his head warning him not to push it too far. Shiro crossed his arms in front of his chest and put on a cocky smile.

 

‘Among other things, Cherrybomb.’ They were looking at each other, both not able to suppress an affectionate grin. Keith’s heart was beating a forceful staccato  against his ribs and he rode the feeling of anticipation and excitement. Despite the unfamiliar situation he felt secure. Secure there, in the strange corridor amidst cool air and cold light, with someone shining bright and warm and welcoming right in front of him. Neither if them said anything, and it wasn’t necessary. Keith believed with unwavering certainty that both of them felt the same way towards each other at that moment, and it made words abundant. 

 

The physical distance between them seemed too far and without consciously thinking about it Keith leaned forward onto the foot placed a bit ahead of him and felt reassurance flood his body along with Adrenaline when Shiro did the same thing. From the bottom of the spiral staircase the sound of voices travelled up, destroying the solemn mood their solitude on the steps had provided. Shiro raised a hand towards Keith’s face, but changed the course at the last moment to set it onto his shoulder anew. He silently mouthed the words  _ thank you _ , lingering for a bit longer than he had to and turned around, heading down the stairs.

  
A delighted  _ Hey, Shiro!  _ woke Keith up from his stun and he spun around to get out into the Entrance Hall again before someone spotted him there. Why the thought of being caught in the entryway to the dungeons bothered him he couldn’t quite figure out. Closing the heavy door behind him he looked up right and found a pair of piercing, light blue eyes looking down at him. There were some students passing through the hall, not sparing him a second look, but still he didn’t feel like having a philosophical and probably deeply confusing conversation with the former headmaster if there were spectators, so he took the steps up to the Grand Staircase two at once to finally hide his new treasure safe and securely under his bed.


	21. Quia non videt eum, sentiut

The day started early. Keith had decided to join Shiro’s morning workouts regularly, which meant rising with the birds every day except Sunday. Even though getting up when it was still dark came close to torture he increasingly noticed the effects of his efforts. Shiro had adapted Keith’s exercises to his level, which resulted in him being able to move properly the rest of the day. Although his muscles seemed to be in a constant state of soreness he felt himself not only grow stronger but also less tired and even his mood had on average been better lately. The only thing Keith still mourned was the copious amount of steps he had to take up to the Gryffindor tower afterwards. 

 

Tuesday was the most intense day of his week. Getting up at six in the morning wasn’t the worst part but certainly didn’t help. His schedule was filled with Divination, Muggle Studies, Defense against the Dark Arts, and Potions and Care for Magical Creatures after lunch. Then he had Quidditch practice with the Gryffindors and usually he’d meet up with Shiro after dinner for one of their study session in the library.

 

Divination was obscure as usual. This time they had to work in pairs, using a pendulum to decipher messages from the future conveyed by spirits. Keith couldn’t roll his eyes far enough into his head. Why he had chosen Divination over Astronomy he couldn’t remember, he would have to change that the following year. However the group assignment actually turned out quite entertaining, with Lance taking the whole ordeal about as serious as he did. Their homework consisted of trying to predict the future for their respective partner, and they had way too much fun doing that over a plate of french fries and stewed lamb at lunch. Apparently Keith would find the love of his life somewhere in Argentina and have three children and a mule.

 

Defense against the Dark Arts consisted of two pretty tiring hours that day, with them reviewing how to cast spells without speaking, but only in theory. It left him staring out of the window onto the aqueduct, longing for the evening when he would maybe finally get permission to fly again. Professor Iverson took him to the side after class.

 

‘Kogane, about the match on Thursday… I don’t want to see a stunt like last time. You are a superb flyer and we need a win. The Hufflepuffs are making fun of us.’, he murmured, his deep voice rumbling.

 

‘I hadn’t noticed, Sir.’, Keith said truthfully. Iverson eyed him intensely, probably trying to find out if he was being made fun of. Deciding against it he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

 

‘It’s… a thing between us teachers I guess…’, he groaned.

 

‘I’m sorry Professor, but I’m benched.’, Keith said, not sure if he should be bitter or amused. Professor Iverson blinked at him.

 

‘Oh... Yes, yes... Give my regards to our Captain, Kogane. Dismissed.’

 

Keith suppressed the urge to salute and made his way towards Kolivan’s hut for Care of Magical Creatures. Being benched sucked, because if he didn’t wish some ill fate upon one of his teammates, he wouldn’t be able to play anytime soon. And if he was honest he didn’t completely mind another person’s injury if it meant he’d be able to play. Not Lance, or Acxa, he had grown quite fond of them. But Luca, Nyma or Rachel could bear breaking an arm or two.

 

On the way he stumbled over Hunk and Shay who chattered happily about the possibilities of infusing modern technology with magic. He learned that Hunk’s biggest passion wasn’t cooking, as he had initially thought, but tinkering with and tweaking gadgets and devices. The Hufflepuff was swooning about Arithmancy and the extracurricular course Metallomancy he was taking when a thought crossed Keith’s mind.

 

‘Do you happen to know Pidge?’, he asked straight forward, interrupting Hunk mid sentence. If he did, he’d immediately know what Keith was getting at, if he didn’t he wouldn’t have revealed anything. Hunk’s face dropped though, giving him his answer.

 

‘How do you…’, Hunk whispered, eyes darting left and right as if he feared the Gremlin’s vengeance. Keith just shrugged his shoulders. So Pidge wasn’t as reclused as she always made out to be. It was certainly an interesting revelation. At Kolivan’s hut a few students had already gathered around the Thestral penn, whispering around in a confused fashion. One of the corners of Keith’s mouth twitched up bitterly.

 

Thestrals were on the curriculum for the first time in class three, but only in a theoretical manner. They were taught that they pulled the carriages getting students to and from Hogsmeade, that they were a special kind of creature, skeletal, black and leathery, that they looked like something had jumped straight out of a nightmare. The fact they mostly ate raw meat didn’t make it any better. They were calm and peaceful animals however, and had one big fact in favor of them.

 

_ Thestrals are wickedly winged creatures who can only be seen by those unfortunate enough to have witnessed death. _

 

Even if they seemed monstrous and fear-inducing, only a handful of students could actually tell. Also, Keith was able to immediately tell the ones who were able to see the demonic looking horses from the ones who couldn’t. There were about four people who had a frightful expression on their faces, retreated towards the back of the crowd of students. The rest of them were painted in uncertainty, knowing the horses were there but not able to be completely sure.

 

When Keith and Hunk got closer to the penn one of the adults noticed him and came closer with a huff. It was a mare he had lovingly called Shitbiscuit because she had eaten a whole package of his biscuits once when she was a foal. Also she had shat on his belongings. More than once. Out of habit he stepped closer to rub her smooth, leathery snout.

 

‘Look at the poser.’

 

It was only a whisper, although loud enough to be heard by most people in their close vicinity. A few snorts followed. He didn’t have to turn around to find out who had spoken. It was always the same procedure. And that despite the fact Kolivan never gave him the best grades for appointments for the sole reason that he expected Keith’s performance to be above everyone else's. Which it technically was, Keith just didn’t agree that he should be held to higher standards than his peers and refused to do extra work.

 

‘I bet there’s not even a beast there, he’s probably just pretending.’, a girl’s voice hissed with an ugly sneer. Keith’s blood started to boil again. He knew better. It was pure provocation, still his temper started to grip after his carefully crafted mask of control and ignorance. Before he could turn around though, another voice joined the other two, this one deep and coming from behind him.

 

‘Are you seriously mocking someone who saw someone die?’ Hunk grumbled, making Keith snap his head. He had never seen the Hufflepuff angry before. More satisfying than the grimaces of the MFE’s faces who hadn’t expected anyone to stand up for the notorious underdog was the feeling of a person’s actual support. Keith felt a wave of sudden affection towards the big guy next to him. He elbowed him into the side and made a motion with his head towards the back of the class. Hunk joined him reluctantly, giving Griffin and his friends the stink-eye.

 

‘What a bunch of jerks.’, Shay whispered to Keith. ‘What did you ever do to them?’

He snorted.

 

‘I guess they needed a scapegoat. I throw a punch too quickly, so I’m easy to blame I guess.’, Keith shrugged. He had gotten used to it.

 

‘Well… you’re actually not how people say you are.’, Hunk smiled. It didn’t feel like a compliment to Keith, but he didn’t ask any further since Kolivan was approaching the group. The class consisted of answering theoretical questions about the fantastic beasts and one after one approaching and touching one. Keith was in charge of guiding the most peaceful member of the herd towards single students along with Kolivan. As fate would have it, one of the MFEs was in his line.

 

When it was Ryan Kinkade's turn Keith considered switching to a more aggressive horse out of pure spite, but Kolivan’s wrath was nothing he wanted on him just for feeling petty. Bringing Shitbiscuit to a stand in front of his body he put a hand on her neck to indicate where the Ravenclaw was to touch her. Kinkade stepped closer into Keith’s comfort zone, making it hard for him to suppress a flinch. He was about half a head taller than Keith and about double the amount of muscle.

 

Kinkade raised a hand and to Keith’s surprise laid it on the Thestral’s snout pinpointed. 

 

‘James is overstepping. I should have said something.’ He looked Keith in the face for a short moment, then rubbed Shitbiscuits snout with more acceftion hzan Keith felt comfortable with and turned around again to make way for the next student in line.

 

He was still thinking about it a few hours later while scrubbing the dirt off the Gryffindor’s brooms with Rollo while the others did a few laps around the field. He hadn’t reacted back then, because there had been nothing to say. It left a sour aftertaste in his mouth still. Did Kinkade expect forgiveness? 

 

‘What did that broomstick do to you, mullet?’ A shadow loomed over him, and he found Lance looking down at him with a bemused expression. Keith feigned ignorance and assaulted the piece of wood more intensely with the cloth soaked in polish.

 

‘Bad day I see… Acxa wants to see you when you’re done with this.’ Keith felt a brief pat on the shoulder, but Lance was gone before he could turn around. The feeling of being on the edge without the ability to name a reason or solution for it left him irritable. He placed the broom back on the rack and threw the worn out piece of fabric into the corner with more force than necessary. 

 

Acxa was waiting for him, stance upright and dominant as always, arms crossed in front of her body. Usually they’d have some playful banter between them but he really wasn’t in the mood for it that day. She seemed to sense it in a way, her body losing some of its tension as he approached. He didn’t feel like speaking, so he didn’t. Maybe it was childish or disrespectful, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The Quidditch Captain raised her brows.

 

‘Rough day?’

 

Keith merely shrugged. He knew she wasn’t really asking.

 

‘I’ll get straight to the point then,’ she said. ‘Iverson spoke to me earlier and was very clear about the extent of your punishment.’

 

Keith felt a sting of excitement somewhere in his stomach. Acxa crossed her arms in front of her chest. 

 

‘He made me agree to lift the ban of your training, but from now on you’re required to be on the field half an hour before everyone else, flying extra rounds.’ Keith didn’t try to let his relief show and gave a brief nod in response.

 

‘But just so we’re clear,’, she added before he could turn around and head back to the spare brooms. ‘If anything similar happens again, you’re out. Learn to control your temper. And I do not mean just during a match.’

 

Keith pulled a face. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I’ll try.’

Acxa gave him another one of her nods and although her voice was as firm as usual she sounded more gentle. ‘Tell me if you need anything.’

 

And with that she let him leave. Keith suspected her offer extended beyond the Quidditch pitch as well. He returned to Rollo and resumed his work, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

  
  
  


…………………………………………………

  
  
  


‘Eat dust, mullet!’, Lance called out, speeding past Keith, the air ruffling his hair. Acxa had summoned up a training simulation for the team where every team member had a certain task to fulfill. The air above the field was clouded with dark grey fluffs of mist and haze. 

 

He was supposed to catch the Snitch, easy as that. As Keith was weaving through the foggy grey though he wasn’t completely sure how to accomplish that task. A yellow flicker of light told him he was fairly close to the golden ball, and he counted the seconds until the next flicker to check if the intervals were regular. Precisely five seconds later it flashed up again. The color was barely visible through the fog, but Keith had a certain advantage over Lance. 

 

Red didn’t need to see. She was guiding him through the mist, nudging at his conscience with directions and suggestions. They were neither words nor images, just a feeling she fed into his mind. While Lance’s strategy was to speed around the field into whichever direction he had seen the Snitch light up last Keith remained mostly suspended in the air, trying to estimate the distance and direction the little ball was heading in and moving in calculated motions.

 

A buzzing sound announced the approach of a bludger. The black demon balls had been equipped with a small whistle that helped the players judge if they were being pursued. Red almost gave him an amused vibe as he did an exaggerated somersault backwards over the Bludger that was attacking him from behind. Even though his concentration was at hundred fifty percent, he was still extremely excited to finally be able to be up in the air again, and he had to suppress the urge to go frolicking around like Lance. 

 

He needed to prove his worth to Acxa. He liked Lance, but from an objective point of view he was a more skilled Seeker than him. The plan was to give a performance that wouldn’t leave Acxa, or now that Keith knew his involvement and passion behind it, Professor Iverson, any other choice than to exchange him with Lance. 

 

Keith only needed one chance.

 

The flicker of a red light to his right made him spin in the air, and for the first time urging his broom to take up speed. He wouldn’t have needed to, Red knew what he wanted before he could consciously think it. The blinking would return in about five seconds time, and Keith stopped at the spot he had assumed was most probably the Snitch’s next location. A few feet away he heard Lance swear, not being able to see him through the dark, grizzly cloud they were in. 

 

He closed his eyes for a second, trying to sense his surroundings. He heard the faint noises of other players flying and shouting at each other, the distant buzzing of a close by Bludger. Red enhanced all of it until it seemed like he more felt than actually heard the noise around him. Above him, something flitted. It was a fragile, small sound, but he knew instantly, and so did Red.

 

The second he opened his eyes the Snitch above him lit up angry red, as if it had just noticed him. From somewhere to his right he heard someone suck in air and leaned forward on his broom. Just out of reach the golden ball was already zig zagging through the fog in order to get away. It was Keith’s chance to prove his skill. Zooming towards the Snitch he desperately tried to make out the golden flicker of its wings through the dull mist. The next light signal would be in a few seconds, and if he lost it now he basically had to start again. 

 

Reaching out a hand his fingers were mere inches away when the Snitch suddenly darted up at the last moment, causing Keith to overbalance and lose sight of the ball for a split second. It was enough though. When he whipped his head up the little ball had disappeared again, and a wave of spite rolled up his back. Red felt it too. She reached out to him, calming him down and encouraging him to focus. 

 

His eyes were no use until the Snitch would light up once more, so he closed them, once again concentrating on the little buzzing sound originating from the flutter of the golden ball’s wings. He drifted up in the direction he had lost the Snitch into, stretching his imaginary feelers out, searching for the familiar noise. Black painted the insides of Keith’s eyelids, but there was something else too. It was almost invisible, easy to overlook. It looked almost like a pulse. Keith had seen pictures of neural networks, and it reminded him a bit of it. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint the faint collections of light since they seemed to disappear as soon as he tried to focus in on them, but the overall pulse running through it made the picture become whole. 

 

He had never witnessed anything like it, but with Red against the back of his mind it felt almost familiar, like she was showing him something she had always known. At the moment she urged him to look closer, to concentrate on the vibrations around him, on the energy he needed to find. The Golden Snitch was bound to be somewhere above them, and without lifting his head or opening his eyes Keith allowed his mind to be guided by Red. She found the energy of the magical ball with ease, as soon as Keith let her take the lead. It was about four feet away, hovering above and a bit to his left, and he surged up without another moment to spare. 

The second he closed his fist around the golden ball the fog lifted within the blink of an eye, revealing the whole field in an almost blinding manner. The players were looking around in confusion at first before their eyes found Keith who was raising the fluttering golden ball in the air. Acxa stood on the ground, taking off a pair of funny looking glasses that had allowed her to observe her team through the fog.

 

Keith landed on the ground, Red vibrating happily in his hand as he jogged towards their captain to hand her the Snitch. Lance was close behind him, calling out a weird mix of praise and curses towards Keith. Acxa raked him appreciatively up and down. 

 

‘Good job, Kogane. Hey! Rachel!’ She walked over to the three Hunters for critique and tips as Lance threw his arm around Keith’s shoulders, throwing his whole sweaty weight against him.

 

‘Man, mullet, how’d you do it? I had no idea where that fudging ball was in between the flickers!’, he groaned. Keith shoved him off unceremoniously and Lance pouted.

 

‘You stink.’, was all he said, making his way towards the changing rooms. Lance trailed after him, sniffing his armpits and jerking back his scrunched face. 

 

‘I mean it. I saw nothing in that fog, how did you catch it?’, Lance pressed. Keith thought for a bit. He knew he wasn’t imagining the connection he had to Red, even though it was more intense than the one he had with his wand. Still, it was probably an alien concept for someone who had never experienced it.

 

‘I guess I listened for its sound.’ It wasn’t a lie per se, but still Keith wasn’t completely sure what he had  _ seen.  _ Or rather felt.

 

‘You mean like a Vespertiglio? I don’t think my ears work like that…’, Lance huffed, and with that he was quiet. They changed in silence, and even though he welcomed the unfamiliar serenity, there was something weighing the mood down. He couldn’t put a finger on it. 

 

The reveal came in the form of a hand on his shoulder as the whole team walked back up to the castle, most of the others chattering away merrily while Keith and Lance traced behind in silence. He looked over, raising an eyebrow. Lance sighed.

 

‘Nothing.’, he murmured. Keith pressed his lips together.

 

‘Okay.’, he answered, walking on. It wasn’t nothing though.

 

‘I have this feeling I’ll get benched. And I’d like to blame you but…. I know you’re better. You know it too. Everyone knows.’ Unsure what to answer Keith resorted to his usual strategy, which was silence. After some time Lance dropped his hand from Keith’s shoulder and pushed it into his pocket with a deep breath. He straightened up and looked over at Keith with new resolve. 

 

‘It’s gonna be fine. Things usually work out for me, this time won’t be different. Watch your back mullet, I won’t go down easily.’ Lance grinned over at him, and Keith silently replied with a wicked sneer. 

 

‘We’ll see.’ he replied, facing back towards the group. Beside him Lance huffed in faked annoyance, making him roll his eyes. Keith almost flinched when he called out towards Acxa and his sisters.

 

‘Hey, boss, we going in for a late night snack I heard?’

 

‘If you talk to the elves, baby boy?’, his sister Veronica called back cockily, starting a playful banter between the three siblings. Acxa, ignoring them, asked into the group.

 

‘I’d say pies and pumpkin juice for everyone?’ She looked at Keith, one eyebrow cocked up. He had never joined the team after a training session or post match hangout, but considering his earlier success and the good mood he was in he didn’t feel completely opposed to it. He nodded. Worst case scenario was that he’d go up to the tower early. 

 

‘I want chicken and mushroom!’, Lance beside him chimed, getting a  _ You eat what you are given, boy!  _ by Rachel. The siblings continued their bickering on the way up. Keith was still walking in the back of the group, amused by the interactions between his teammates. And then it hit him. He was enjoying the interactions of other people, of a group he felt part of. A grin tugged at the corner of his lips, and he shook his head in amused disbelief.

 

It had  _ only _ taken him six and a half years in this goddamn school, but for the first time in forever he felt like he was welcome, like he belonged. It fluttered like warm butterflies on his skin and made him want to actually hug someone. How peculiar. 

 

Lance called out to him, a piece of parchment and pencil in hand. Apparently he had lost whichever fight they had had.

 

‘Mullet, what pie do you want, I need your order since I’m being abused as an errandboy.’

 

‘That’s what you get for being a brat!’, Rachel chimed. Keith thought for a second, then smiled.

 

‘Cherry.’, he said.

 


	22. Chorus Ad Me

Wednesday afternoon was beautiful and sunny. A few cumulus clouds were strewn on the bright blue sky, the idyll contradicting Acxa’s relentless drills. They were doing mock up games while she created different challenges to disturb them and train their reaction and teamwork. 

Time went by quickly as always when Keith was flying and he soon found himself descending towards the ground, sweaty and exhilarated. He came to a halt in front of his captain.

‘Good session, Kogane.’, she nodded at him. When he didn’t move away she sighed. 

‘Yes, you are still benched. Don’t look at me like that, I’m not going to replace our seeker just like that, and you know it. Now walk.’ His eyebrows shot up. It wasn’t what he had wanted to ask, and he felt defiance build up in the back of his mind.

‘Acxa…’, he started, earning him an icy glance from the side. From his experience he had about a second to explain himself before she’d walk away. Like Keith, Axca wasn’t a woman of many words, mostly ignoring those who bothered her or leaving them standing on the spot. 

‘I wanted to ask if I could stay on the field for a bit longer. I’m meeting up with someone for another training session later and if I could stay here…’ She regarded him with knowing eyes, hesitating. When she turned her body towards him completely he noticed how small she actually was. Her attitude and confident appearance made her seem to tower over people when in reality she barely reached Keith’s height.

‘I can’t do that, Kogane. If anything happens, Iverson will have my head for it. And so far you haven’t earned my trust completely.’ After the last sentence her eyes turned a shade softer. 

‘You’re doing better. Keep at it. After the holidays we can talk about your position on the team.’

With that she turned around and joined Rachel, Veronica and Nyma. Someone threw an arm around his shoulders, making Keith flinch in surprise. A head of dark brown hair had appeared next to him, grinning.

‘I bet Axca was praising my flawless execution of the Plumpton Pass. Don’t think you can just replace me, mullet, I’m stepping up my game!’

‘I rather think they were discussing how to break it to you that Keith’ll be playing Seeker on Thursday while you’re benched.’, Rollo chimed in from Keith’s other side, consciously not touching him. Keith was grateful at least some people remained considerate of his boundaries while he shoved Lance off unceremoniously.

‘You didn’t even catch the Snitch, just flailed your sleeve through the air.’ Keith said, disregarding Lance’s faked indignation as he slipped into the changing rooms. Keeping the uniform on and flying a few extra rounds until Shiro arrived would be so much more convenient, but in the end it was his own fault. If he hadn’t pulled off the stupid fight with Rollo, Acxa might’ve even said yes.

Considering the fact that they had tried to beat each other’s head in just two weeks prior, Rollo and Keith got along as if nothing had ever happened. Not that they hung out or spent time together apart from classes and training sessions, but occasionally sharing jokes or the latest of Lance’s slip-ups proved more entertaining than Keith had thought. Lance and Rollo’s chatter pulled him out of his thoughts.

‘Were the first two rejections not enough for you, man?’, Rollo huffed, rolling his eyes.

‘Some things in life are worth fighting for, my friend. Besides, three is the magic number, don’t you agree, mullet?’, Lance chanted, turning expectantly towards Keith. 

‘I don’t even want to know what you’re talking about.’, he answered, shouldering his messenger bag. Lance didn’t care about his lack of interest.

‘Luca, of course! Her silky hair, the cute little pout she always has…’, Lance sighed, and Keith felt the sudden urge to retch. 

‘He wants to take her to the Yule ball, and surprise, she already refused. Twice.’, Rollo explained. ‘Also, you need to learn to take a no, man!’, he said, hitting Lance on the shoulder while they left the changing rooms together.

‘I need to try one last time, or I’ll regret it for the rest of my life! Hopefully she’ll be well again tomorrow.’, Lance said dramatically, ignoring both Rollo’s advice and Keith’s disinterest in his love life. 

‘Who are you going to the Yule ball with, mullet?’, Lance asked, making Rollo turn his head with curiosity. Keith only rolled his eyes.

‘I’m not going with anyone. I’d rather not go at all.’ Lance gasped as if personally offended while Rollo seemed content enough with that answer.

‘Why would you not want to go to the ball, Shrek?’, Lance protested. ‘It’s the social event of the year, teachers and students mingling alike to dreamy music and delightful appetizers. And the after party…’

‘...which we are not yet invited to.’, Rollo objected, hands stuffed into his pockets.

‘Yet.’, Lance interjected. ‘And that’s where you are coming in, my Slytherin-versed friend.’ He raised his hand as if to throw it around Keith’s shoulder again, but seemed to remember his earlier rejection and settled for awkwardly patting him on the back instead. Keith would have expected his body to react more repulsed to the unwanted touching, but he was exhausted so he settled for cocking an eyebrow, trying to convey the mixture of annoyance and confusion through his facial expression.

‘You are bffs with Golden Boy Takashi Shirogane if I am not mistaken?’, Lance chirped. ‘Which means you are our ticket into the dungeons, Mullet.’ Keith shrugged off the hand that still lingered on his shoulder and ignored Lance. He had heard about the supposedly legendary party that was secretly held in the Slytherin dungeons after the Yule ball ended, but he had never had any motivation to go. A lot of probably drunk and annoying people jerking their bodies to music too loud in spaces too small. It sounded anything but inviting. 

Lance, who repeatedly proved he didn’t understand the concept of being rejected, convinced Keith in the end with the promise of letting him copy homework assignments for various subjects until the end of the year. It was just a question, and Keith would get a lot more in return.

He split up with Lance and Rollo when they had almost reached the castle with a murmured excuse. Walking up to the tower would take too long and he felt too sweaty for getting a snack in the Great Hall so he settled for a spontaneous visit of Kolivan an Space Wolf. Shiro would probably be early, so he’d play a bit with the magical creature and return to the Quidditch pitch. The favor Lance had asked him for unexpectedly hung a bit heavy in the back of Keith’s mind, and he tried to shove it away.

He just needed to ask Shiro. It should be easy. As he walked by the Greenhouses a familiar voice was travelling towards him, whistling a merry melody. Hunk was carrying a huge chest that rattled and clinked with every step. His face it up with a grin when he saw Keith, who nodded in return.

‘Keith! How you doin’, buddy?’, he chimed, putting down the chest. In it there was a giant ball and two smaller boxes with lids whose contents probably caused the metallic noise. Keith stopped in his tracks, his curiosity peaked. Hunk noticed his glances into the box.

‘Wanna guess?’, Hunk teased. The answer was a straightforward no, making the Hufflepuff laugh.

‘I thought I’d make a disco ball, but with a magical twist to it, you know?’ Keith’s expression must have looked utterly clueless since Hunk’s grin faded into slight uncertainty.

‘Nothing freaky, just like projecting different environments around the room depending on mood and music. I’m kinda stuck on the spell with it though.’ Hunk was scratching his ear, eyes on the big orb in the chest. Keith’s lips mouthed a silent oh as the scales fell from his eyes. It probably was for the ball next week.

Why they celebrated the beginning of the Christmas holidays with a dance, no one really knew. Some people murmur it stemmed from the old tradition to hold a Yule ball while guests from different schools resided in Hogwarts during international tournaments, but the current headmaster in his frenzy to celebrate every and any occasion and had turned it into an annual happening. Keith had attended three out of the six that had been held in his time at the school for witchcraft and wizardry, and none of them had held their promise of entertainment, friendship and wonder. 

‘So,...’, Hunk started again, obviously having noticed that Keith had gotten a bit lost in his thoughts. ‘Are you going? To the dance, I mean.’ Keith shrugged his shoulders again. It was a perfectly appropriate way to answer questions in his mind, at least those not concerning superficial topics like the one they were talking about. Hunk was more tactful than Lance though.

‘You should come. This disco ball is going to blow people’s minds. Besides, I heard the elves are already preparing Christmas foods from all around the world, you really don’t wanna miss that.’ He winked and picked up his DIY project again.

‘Think about it. Oh, and good luck at the match tomorrow!’, Hunk smiled and walked up to the castle as Keith took the trodden path down to Kolivan’s hut, his thoughts inadvertently circling around the question if he should attend the celebrations, and why everyone seemed to care so much if he was going.

 

…………………………………………………………

 

Chills ran up his spines as he watched the meaty worms wriggle in their baskets. Kolivan was teaching a lesson about Flubberworms when Keith approached, so he quietly stole himself into the hut where he was greeted with a wagging tail and slobbering flews.

‘Hey, boy.’, he greeted the Space Wolf, whose shoulders already reached his thighs. The rate it was growing at was incredible, and if Kolivan’s handwritten encyclopedias were correct it would stand at five feet fully grown. No one had told Space Wolf though that he was supposed to be a ferocious and elegant creature, and Keith snorted silently as he tried to chase his tail after he had startled himself with it.

Kolivan entered the hut a few minutes later. He nodded at the question if he had finished his lesson and started to set up water for tea as Keith continued wrestling the pup. Kolivan watched them with his familiar blank expression, only looking away when the pot started whistling.

‘You should take Apparition classes.’, he suddenly said when they had settled down at the big, heavy table in the center of the hut, Space wolf contently gnawing a bone underneath it. Keith only looked at him, puzzled. As if it was the logical conclusion, Kolivan gestured towards the beast merrily crunching away and slobbering up the bone marrow.  
‘It is useful. Also you could keep up with the wolf. I already talked to Professor Slav, you could start lessons after the semester.’

Keith knew that was all the discussion they were going to have. The Apparition course was liable to pay costs, which was part of the reason he hadn’t picked it up. The other one was simply that he hadn’t wanted to spend more time than necessary around people who were full of prejudice and rash opinions already. Things had changed though. He had changed. Also, as far as he knew, Shiro was in the course. Kolivan’s eyes on him were patient. He finished his tea and stood up to put the mugs away. 

‘Professor Slav wants his answer ‘til the Yule dance.’, he said. ‘And now go, there’s someone waiting for you outside.’

Keith’s eyebrows shot up. Shiro must have seen him walk over to the hut. It was still a bit early for their training, but Keith didn’t mind. He scratched Space Wolf goodbye, gave a quick thank you to Kolivan and stepped out.

The person waiting for him was neither tall nor broad. She had long, blonde ponytails and light blue rectangular markings on he cheekbones. He recognized her as the girl from Honeydukes, who had recommended him the different Flubberworms he still hadn’t given to Shiro. When she saw him her posture tensed and she clenched he hands.

‘Keith!’, she blurted out almost a little too loud, making him instantly feel perplexed about her demeanour.

‘Hey, uhm….’ He had forgotten her name. She seemed to realize, cheeks turning pink.

‘Romelle. From Honeydukes?’, she tried, starting to fidget with her fingers. Her whole figure screamed unease, drawing Keith in, causing him to nervously start popping his knuckles in his pocket.

‘Flubberworms, I remember. Uhm… thanks again.’, Keith said. She seemed to blush more at that, not replying. They were standing and staring at each other for a few awkward moments, Keith still waiting for any hint as to why she had wanted to talk to him. Romelle didn’t seem to have anything more to say, looking to the ground as her fingers twisted the end of one of her ponytails. 

‘I have practice, so…’, Keith tried, making a gesture towards the Quidditch field and took a step to the side. He desperately wanted to get away, the whole situation making him anxious for no apparent reason. A small hand caught his sleeve. Romelle quickly pulled her fingers back with wide eyes as if she hadn’t actually wanted to grab him. Her face was beet red by then.

‘Keith, I…. I think you are really nice. You are different than the others, and… I wanted…. you see….’ She struggled with the words and Keith had to suppress the urge to shake her out of the episode she was having. She exhaled quickly and steadied her gaze on him.

‘Please go to the Yule ball with me!’

Keith’s jaw dropped.

 

…………………………………………………………………….

 

The snow had molten away a bit over the course of the day, and now in the cooling air of the approaching dark the surface had hardened into an icy and slippery path where the Quidditch teams used to make their way down to the field. Keith was walking down from Kolivan’s hut, sending a steady stream of blue flames from his wand to melt away the ice in front of him. The sun was setting against his back, painting the way ahead in eerie shadows. He was probably sending more heat and flames towards the ground than necessary, leaving a squiggly route of naked ground and puddles behind him, but he didn’t care.

The knuckles of his left hand cracked satisfyingly as he was twisting his finger’s digits into different directions, however it didn’t have the calming effect it usually had on him. Keith furrowed his eyebrows. In the end he hadn’t given Romelle a proper answer, trying to stutter around the fact he didn’t even know if he was going, that he didn’t understand why she wanted to go with him in the first place, or that he didn’t feel like going with her anyway.

He had never really worried himself with dating since most of his fellow students either hated or ignored him, and being asked out was way less flowery than everyone had made it out to be, his hands still sweaty and anxious from the stressful situation. How was he supposed to know if he’d have a fun evening with a person he barely knew. At the same time the prospect of hurting another person’s feelings, especially one that seemed as fragile as Romelle, wasn’t something he’d want the burden of.

It had been pushed onto him, if he wanted it or not. This dance already frustrated him immensely, and it was still over a week until it would take place. Keith fried a tiny shrub in passing, not feeling remotely sorry about it.

Quidditch. Now.

It would clear his mind.

The entrance was closed off, so he decided to run a few laps around it to warm himself back up. Training with the Gryffindors had left him exhausted, but he still had enough energy and anxiety in him to put into another hour of strenuous exercise. 

He had almost finished his third lap when he suddenly felt a spasm in his right thigh. Keith tried to run it out, but it got too painful too quickly and with a swear against Merlin’s private parts he leaned against the wooden outer wall of the Quidditch field, trying to squeeze some reason into his cramping leg. 

‘I thought I heard your mellow voice.’, someone chirped from around the corner, and a familiar head of silver hair appeared, steps crunching in the snow.

‘Fuck.’, Keith huffed as his muscles seemed to painfully tighten into steel. ‘Gimme… a sec…’

‘Oh… sit down!’, Shiro commanded, swiping the ground clear of snow with a flick of his wand. Keith complied hesitantly. Cramps were awful, but nothing that killed you, he just had to wait it out. When Shiro pressed his knee down until the leg was completely stretched Keith let out a protesting yelp, falling back on his elbows from the unexpected strain.

‘Trust me, it’s going to be over quicker this way.’, Shiro promised, kneeling in front of his foot. He took Keith’s shoe off and started to push it back, causing the muscles along the backside of his legs to stretch as far as they could. 

If it hadn’t hurt so much Keith might have been embarrassed about his sweaty socks against Shiro’s bare hands, but the pressure against his thigh kept him busy trying not to hiss at the pain. As quickly as it had started, it began to fade. As if a fist that had been clenched down on his leg was letting go, Keith felt his body relax and he let his head fall back with a groan. Shiro chuckled.

‘Good evening to you too.’ Keith had to grin at that and he closed his eyes with relief.

Hands against his thigh made Keith flinch, but the slow strokes and pressure Shiro administered to his tortured limb felt like heaven. 

‘You really shouldn’t train twice in one day, it takes a toll on your body.’, Shiro murmured as he dragged his hands downwards along the dip between Keith’s thigh muscles.

‘Technically speaking I train three times.’, Keith smirked, pushing upwards into a sitting position. His head felt light, a few dots blinking in front of his eyes against the Slytherin’s familiar face. ‘Thanks.’

‘When you have a cramp, stretch the muscle until it fades. Then try to soothe it like this.’ Shiro took Keith’s hand and imitated the movements he had done a moment earlier with Keith’s fingers. 

Now that the immediate pain had receded, Keith’s mind had the opportunity to focus completely on the close proximity of the person before him, but the anxiety he usually felt had changed. He couldn’t exactly put a finger on it, his heart was still beating, hands getting sweaty and something seemed to grip his stomach. However, this wasn’t the same. Keith’s skin seemed to burn where Shiro was touching his hands. It was exhilarating and nerve wrecking at once, and a complete overreaction to the situation. He knew as much, but still he couldn’t push it down. 

Shiro’s eyes found his and he stilled, fingers still over Keith’s. It was only about a second, but Keith’s heart dropped into his stomach. He felt like a deer in the headlights, about to be run over. Shiro snapped out of the short trance he’d been in and stood up, holding out a hand towards him.

‘Better?’, he asked. Keith nodded, taking the outstretched palm and let Shiro pull him up to his feet. Again, the contact sent burning goosebumps all over his skin. The door was only a few feet away, but Shiro stopped short in front of it, raking Keith up and down.

‘Hey… I know you want to fly, but you already had a pretty intense day, additionally there’s the match tomorrow. How about we just get a snack and go over your strategy?’

Keith didn’t know if he was able to hide his disappointment. Of course, Shiro was right, but he really needed something to help him let go after the afternoon he’d had. He was looking for a way to talk his way into getting at least a little flight time when Shiro put a hand on his shoulder. 

‘How about I let you ride Black up to the castle with me, to make it up to you?’ 

Huh.

Before Keith could answer Shiro had slipped through the door. He was back after a few moments, the Black Lion of the Paladin series in one hand. Keith ran an appreciative hand over the wood on the handle and whistled.

‘Can one broom carry two people?’, he asked, fascinated by the power the pieces of magically enhanced wood held.

‘It won’t be as fast, but why not? This is the most powerful broom on the market right now, I think it should be able to carry at least five.’, Shiro grinned, and swung a leg over it.

‘You can of course walk, if you’d prefer that?’, he said over his shoulder, and Keith didn’t need to be asked twice.

 

…………………………………………………………..

 

Partnering up on one broom was… crammy. Keith was used to moving his limbs freely and having full control over the flight, but pressed against Shiro’s back he had to resign all control and let himself be taken up. His hands held onto the broomstick in front of Shiro, an far too late he became aware of how close they were. Keith’s heart tried to beat itself a way out of his chest and he hoped Shiro wouldn’t feel it through the layers of wool between them.

The Slytherin was broad and warm against him, blocking out all the headwind. Keith had found himself in a curious situation that was completely new to him, giving up the reigns and letting himself be guided by someone else. It would have been a horrible experience with anyone other than Shiro, but somehow this felt alright. 

Keith didn’t love it, but he believed the Slytherin not to betray his trust. He wouldn’t. Preoccupied with his emotional dilemma he noticed how far they had already flown. Trying to take in the landscape rushing by a few feet below them he propped his chin up on Shiro’s shoulder to peek over. 

Shiro twitched at that, but smiled. 

It had started to snow slightly, and the sun was almost gone as they took an extra long route around the lake, passing the boat house and cliffs, threading their way through the pillars of the aqueduct. 

‘Are you staying in Hogwarts over the holidays?’, Shiro called out to him. He didn’t have to yell since their heads were close together, but still the rush of air between them swallowed most of the sounds, so Keith just nodded against Shiro’s shoulder.

‘How ‘bout you?’

‘Skiing with the Holts.’ That was disappointing. Keith had hoped he could spend more time with Shiro during the break, since most of his colleagues were going home. Another week with Kolivan and Space Wolf it was. It could be worse. They were closing in on the Entrance Hall, and Shiro gently landed them on top of the stairs in front of the giant gate. It was a Textbook landing, and he had expected nothing else.

The urge to stay pressed against the Slytherin was intense, but it felt inappropriate, so Keith stepped off Black with a heavy heart. He felt cold immediately. Shiro nudged him towards the entrance, and Keith felt completely swamped with his feelings. Usually it was happy, angry, tired, hungry. The emotional cocktail he had been experimenting over the course of the day left him exhausted. 

‘So….’, Shiro started hesitantly. ‘Are you going to the Yule ball with anyone?’

Not Shiro too. Keith let out a frustrated groan that made the Slytherin pull up his brows.

‘That’s a no, I guess?’ 

Keith threw his arms in the air in frustration.

‘I don’t know why everyone is so obsessed with this fucking ball?! No one ever gave a shit about me and suddenly everyone talks about it with me, like I care? I just…’, he groaned again. ‘No. I’m not going with anyone. I don’t know if I’ll go at all. Can we please drop it and get something with a lot of meat and grease now?’ 

Shiro looked taken aback for a moment, then huffed, hand wandering up to his neck and scratching his undercut. 

‘Sure. Cheesy bacon fries sound good?’, he asked as they made their way through the hall and down the stairs toward the kitchen.

‘Do your ‘Murica magic, Golden Boy.’, Keith snorted.

‘Are you ever going to tell me what you did to those poor House elves that they despise you so much?’ Shiro asked, walking backwards towards the kitchen door as Keith stayed back behind a corner.

‘Maybe if you get me in the right mood.’ Keith teased, surprising himself with his wit. Shiro only shook his head with a chuckle when Keith called after him.

‘Don’t forget the mayo!’


	23. Arcana omnium nostrum

The moon stood high by the time they reached the Astronomy Tower. Somehow Shiro had actually convinced the House Elves to make them Chili Cheese Fries with a heap of ketchup and mayo, and they were licking at their greasy fingers while going over the possible strategies for the game the next day, feet dangling through the gaps in the stone rail.

 

‘I haven’t had those in years.’, Shiro finally sighed, flopping back to the floor and patting his stomach. Keith huffed and leaned back onto his elbows, watching the Slytherin from the corner of his eyes.

 

‘How did you even get the Elves to make us actual chili-cheese fries?’, he asked, wiping the film left on his fingers on his pants.

 

‘You wouldn’t believe what a bit of charme can accomplish, especially with House Elves.’, Shiro grinned, eyes closed and face blissful. Keith just snorted a short _As if._  He was mustered with a suspicious side glance.

 

‘You know, I keep wondering, and since we got time now... tell me the Tale of Keith the Keen, Arch Nemesis to House Elves, depressive Slytherins and foul mouthed Gryffindors alike.’ Shiro’s self sufficient smile made the knot in Keith’s stomach tighten a bit. It was probably the fries. He sighed, ignoring the cheesy title he had just received, and let his head hang back, looking up at the stars.

 

‘I think it was back in third grade? I had… let’s call it problems with a classmate. Repeatedly. I had no impulse control back then, so I got into fights almost every week. Oh, shut up!’ He grinned and shoved at Shiro playfully when he mouthed _Back then?_ at Keith.

 

‘I spend more time in Iverson’s office than in classrooms I think. One day I made the plan to get back at the guy, preferably in a way that wouldn’t get me in trouble, so I got the idea to put something into his laundry. I brewed a pretty simple concoction that would cause him to get an itchy rash all over his junk.’

 

He was interrupted by a loud snort next to him.

 

‘You didn’t… Where did you even brew it?’, Shiro huffed, holding his stomach with an equally pained and amused expression.

 

‘Girl’s bathroom on the Second Floor.’, Keith shrugged.

 

‘Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom? She didn’t cuss you out?’ Shiro’s brows were drawn up with disbelief. It was Keith’s turn to grin.

 

‘You wouldn’t believe what a bit of charme can accomplish.’ It earned him a weak shove and he felt a smug grin creep onto his face.

 

‘Anyway, I sneaked down into the dungeons where the Elves do all the laundry. They were a bit confused but didn’t mind me all too much after I told them I was looking for my own clothes. The plan was pour the concoction into Griffin’s underwear and bolt.’

 

‘Griffin… that the guy on the Ravenclaw team?’

 

Well, fuck. Keith had not actually planned on revealing that part of the story. Shiro must have noticed the shift of his facial expression because he chose to politely ignore that Keith was just staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

 

‘Solid plan, sounds pretty foolproof to me.’ Shiro said, turning on his back with closed eyes, his hands cushioning the back of his head. Keith snorted with relief.

 

‘If I hadn’t been a sloppy thirteen-year-old and trying to brew a shady potion in a bathroom, maybe. I screwed up something in the process. The second I uncorked the vial it evaporated into the air and made everyone in the room high as fuck.’

 

The sound Shiro made wasn’t one he’d heard before. It was a mixture of disbelief, horror and amusement. Besides Kolivan, Professor Iverson and the headmaster Shiro was the first to hear this story, but it was the first time it was received with humor. Despite the disciplinary actions he had to face because of it all Keith had found a certain irony in it that had amused him since the initial shame had faded. Shiro’s reaction spurred him on.

 

‘I don’t remember what happened next, but it must have been a hell of a party. I was found in my underwear in a heap of sheets, clutching a whole pineapple who came from who knows where. I wouldn’t wake up for a whole day, and apparently neither did the House Elves. It was complete chaos, from what I’ve heard, no food or clean laundry. I slept through the whole ordeal.’ Recalling it made him grin. Right after the incident he had been extremely disoriented, not able to recollect anything that had happened. Now, all that was left behind was a feeling of fond amusement over his own stupidity and a strand of grey hair on Iverson’s head.

 

Looking over at Shiro he found him staring, mouth agape.

 

‘What.’

 

‘You… you had a stoned underwear party with the House Elves. When you were thirteen.’

 

Keith felt the heat creep up his cheeks without his consent. The corners of his mouth rose up. Maybe he was a bit embarrassed after all, but amused nevertheless. He looked back up at the starry sky who twinkled at him as if in teasing silence.

 

‘You’re really something, you know that?’, Shiro said from the side. Keith could hear the grin without glancing over and it eased off some of the tension that had seeped into his neck muscles.

 

‘How have I never heard of this story? If people knew, you would be a legend, Keith!’

 

‘You know that people don’t like me, right?’ He cocked an eyebrow at the Slytherin next to him, and there was the smile he had anticipated. Bright like the moon above them.

 

‘Not all of them.’, Shiro said with a wink, and it sent shivers down Keith’s spine. He snapped his head back to stare a hole into the starry sky, somewhere between Sirius and Betelgeuse. Shiro didn’t seem bothered by his silent dismissal.

 

‘Maybe you deserve a new nickname. Pineapple bomb doesn’t sound half as good as cherry bomb though.’, he snickered, causing Keith to roll his eyes.

 

‘Why are you so obsessed with that nickname?’ he asked into the night. Shiro didn’t answer, not for a few minutes. Keith was almost ready to push himself down a slope of anxious self doubt when warmth enclosed the hand he has rested between their bodies.

 

Shiro’s skin was rough and dry and seemed to burn his palm wherever they touched. Keith's pulse was drumming in his throat and threatened to close it off. He had forgotten how to breathe. Encompassed in the feeling of Shiro’s hand on his he only then noticed a pointy edge poking into his palm. Looking down, a slip of thick, folded paper was sticking out between their fingers. Shiro gave him an encouraging squeeze.

 

It was a photograph, Keith realized unfolding it. Worn down, with white edges where not even the magic ink had been able to withstand years of use. Shiro had turned to his side, head resting on his bicep. His pose was casual enough, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed his feigned composure.

 

Four people were smiling at Keith. A woman in her late twenties probably, with her hair in a tight bun and an outraged expression as she was trying to hold down a boy of about nine or ten years who had other plans than to sit still for a family portrait. He had messy, black hair and the impish grin of a trickster and troublemaker. Next to him sat a copy of said boy, same inky hair, but with a softer face and not so sure what to think of his brother. Keith’s favourite part though was the man behind them who sported obvious amusement over the scene in front of him. The fondness froze in his veins when he suddenly remembered.

 

Shiro spared him the pressure to say something first. His left hand went up to ghost gently over the picture.

 

‘I remember this day like it was yesterday. Kaa-san… I mean Mum and Dad wanted to do Christmas cards for our relatives in Japan because they found it charmingly American. We were at a photo studio and I can still hear Mum lecture us about how expensive it was and how she was ashamed of us while Dad snickered in the background.’

 

Shiro’s rueful smile while recalling the memory unleashed a longing in Keith he didn’t know how to express, one that made his heart ache and mouth tight.

 

‘They look so wonderful.’, he said, and he meant it.

 

Both boys shared the pain of losing loved ones, but while Shiro’s memories were younger and more vibrant, so was his suffering. Holding the photo in his left hand, Keith turned towards Shiro as well. He had no clue how to express the thunderstorm raging through his chest with words, so he hesitantly lifted his right and rested it over Shiro’s heart.

 

_I understand your pain._

 

_I can see how much you miss them._

 

_I can see how much you loved them._

 

_I want you to feel okay again._

 

_I am here._

 

He knew Shiro understood when he inched himself closer, wrapping an arm around Keith’s waist and pulling him towards his body slowly. Slowly, he realized, to give Keith time to draw back. Mercury eyes searched his for any sign of discomfort, open and vulnerable. Shiro was considerate of Keith’s boundaries even in his loss, even as he was hurting, and the realisation left Keith flinging his right around the Slytherin and almost crashed into him.

 

 

A hand cradled the back of his head gently as if to calm him down and Keith pressed his chin onto Shiro’s shoulder. Even though his single arm could barely reach around the broad rib cage in front of him, he aimed to cover as much of Shiro’s body as possible.

 

Keith’s left arm was squished between them and he tried to protect the valuable photograph from being crumpled as his mind threatened to tune out in Shiro’s warmth and sheer mass. His left had started rubbing tentative lines along Keith’s spine, and he couldn’t help but relax into the gesture. Shiro let out a heavy sigh, followed by a chuckle. When he started speaking anew, the jaw against Keith’s ear was rough with the slightest stubble as it moved, sending chills down the Gryffindor’s back.

 

‘Ryu was my twin. He was the wild one, charming and intelligent where I was awkward and slow.’

 

Keith suppressed the urge to protest, and kept on listening. Someone more charming and intelligent than Shiro seemed like an overkill, but he wasn’t one to question sibling dynamics. He kept his chin propped on Shiro’s shoulder, running his hand slightly up and down the dip of his spine, unconsciously mirroring what Shiro was doing to him. He felt Shiro’s muscles tense.

 

Dread crept under Keith’s skin and his hand froze. It worsened when Shiro pulled back, eyes searching his. He was too close. He must be able to see the pulse racing at the base of Keith’s neck, the reddened skin on his ears and cheeks.

 

‘Keith, are you… is this okay?’ Shiro’s voice was less steady than Keith would have expected. Guilt layered over the confusing cocktail of emotions already clouding his judgment.

 

‘Yeah, just… I don’t know what to do.‘ He had to look away, although there weren’t many places to look at with the close proximity of the Slytherin. He settled to stare at Shiro’s collar.

 

‘I’m fine. Are… are you?’

 

Keith waited, chest rising as his lungs tried to provide enough oxygen for his franticly beating heart. When the silence grew too long he glanced up into Shiro’s face again and found him staring somewhere into the void behind Keith. He seemed in thought, lips curled up into a rueful smile. It was answer enough. Keith couldn’t look away from the way Shiro’s expression changed when he spoke again, his voice equally soft and wistful.

 

‘Ryu discovered the old hard rockers when we were in the third grade I think, especially _The Runaways_ and _Deep Purple_ . For a whole ear he sang the song _Cherrybomb_ , and I wanted to strangle him after a month already. Now it seems so silly. But… when you told me that story about Professor Hira and the exploding Cherry Candy it was like Ryu sat before me with that wicked grin of his.’

 

A million different emotions flooded Keith at once, and he could decipher almost none of them except the urge to get closer to the Slytherin. Like a Kneazel he bumped his forehead against Shiro’s, almost missing the breath he sucked in at that. His left was still guarding the photograph while the other remained on the small of Shiro’s back.

 

That night had brought a great many firsts for Keith. The most important though was the feeling of being there for another person. Never in all the years he remembered had anyone tried to lean on him for support or reassurance, and a sudden wave of protectiveness and responsibility rolled over him as he watched Shiro open up and baring his wounds in front of him.

 

It was as scary and intense as it was wonderful.

 

Shiro’s right hand, which had at some point dropped onto the stone beneath them, returned to the back of Keith’s head and started threading through the loose strands that had made their way out of his ponytail. The words had started tumbling out of Keith’s mouth before he could even realize it.

 

‘I never knew my mum. Lived with my Muggle dad until one day he didn’t make it home. I was in the foster system for a bit until Kolivan took me in.’

 

Shiro remained silent, waiting for him to continue. The fingers in Keith’s hair alternated between running through the strands and scratching lightly over the skin.

 

‘Sometimes I wonder how my life had played out with a normal family.’ It was a thought Keith hadn’t shared with anyone before, partly because of the guilt towards Kolivan, but also because he was scared of the answer. He probably wouldn’t have become such a screw-up. Before he could even start his descent down into self-loathing, Shiro squeezed his neck and brought him back into reality.

 

‘I’m sure you would be even brattier than you are now.’ Shiro grinned, not without affection.

 

‘You’re one to talk!’, Keith snorted, shoving playfully at the Slytherin’s side, but Shiro only pulled him flush against his chest. Keith’s heart, which was working hard for it’s money that evening, jumped once more. Shiro’s mood was infectious, and he let himself be swept away.

 

‘I miss them everyday.’, the Slytherin murmured after a few moments, his grin turning into a smile. Keith knew the feeling. By then, since it had been so many years already, there were even days he would forget about his father, and the guilt washing over him as soon as he realized was almost as bad as the actual loss.

 

‘Well, I guess you have someone who reminds you of your brother now.’ Keith teased, shrugging his shoulders as much as he was able to under the weight of Shiro’s arm. He got another snort in return.

 

‘You’re nothing like Ryu. I found that out pretty fast. You never actually want to cause trouble for others or prank them out of boredom. I’m consciously ignoring your Stoner party with the House Elves here.’ Shiro laughed, catching Keith’s wrist before he could stab his fingers between his ribs. He ignored Keith’s scowl happily.

 

‘It’s true, I got curious about you because you resembled him at first glance. But the more I got to know about you, the more you fascinated me. You are a force to be reckoned with. I mean it!’, he insisted as Keith’s eyebrows went up in disbelief.

 

‘I guess it felt good to get you into the Gryffindor team. Of course I also wanted to fly against you, but it was rewarding to do something so meaningful for you. In the end, I’m just pretty selfish.’ Shiro’s smile remained, but the emotion behind it had taken a turn.

 

‘You’re taking yourself too serious.’, Keith said. It was Shiro’s turn to raise his brows now.

 

‘Isn’t every good deed done because the person doing it wants to feel better?’

 

Shiro didn’t say anything for a minute or two, and then scooted closer to rest his chin on Keith’s head, which squished him a bit more into the crook of Shiro’s neck. He didn’t mind.

 

‘You would be right to be mad at me.’ Shiro said, the sounds vibrating against Keith’s cheek. He squeezed the Slytherin tighter.

 

‘Nah. I don’t even think I can repay you. And I mean that literally, I wouldn’t be able to afford the rent on a broom from the Paladin series if I sold my kidneys.’ Keith more felt that heard Shiro hum in response.

 

Removing himself from the warmth and smell he was basking in was probably the hardest thing he had had to do that day, but nevertheless he pushed himself up slowly until he was sitting upright. Shiro, who propped his head up on his right arm again, watched him curiously.

 

‘Thank you, Shiro.’

 

The Slytherin’s expression showed no reaction to Keith’s gratitude, but his eyes studied his face, wandering over the arch of Keith’s brow over his eyes, cheekbones, to his lips and up again.

 

An owl hooed somewhere close to them, reminding Keith that they should probably get back down to their common rooms if they wanted to get at least a few hours of sleep. He wasn’t able to move under Shiro’s gaze though, simultaneously wanting to look away and keep staring back.

 

Shiro was the one to break the eye contact first, closing his and rolling on his back with a smile that was all teeth and easiness.

 

‘How are you like that?’, he asked up into the night sky.

 

‘How are _you_ like that?’, Keith retorted, putting the photograph in Shiro’s hand resting next to his face. Before he could pull back, Shiro closed his fingers around Keith’s and brought it closer to his face as if to kiss it.

 

It was the moment Keith’s heart decided to momentarily stop working. He only stared down as their conjoined hands fingers hovered over Shiro’s lips, frozen in place. As if he caught himself, Shiro’s eyes flew wide for a second, and then awkwardly squeezed Keith’s fingers before letting go and sitting up.

 

‘We should head back.’, he said, stretching his back as if nothing had happened. Maybe it hadn’t. The nervous stutter against Keith’s rib cage was telling him a different story, but experience told him he wasn’t the best at judging human interactions.

 

Still…

 

‘Keith, come back to me?’, Shiro smiled, holding out a hand to help him up. He was already standing, the moonlight framing him in a milky halo against the night sky.

 

Keith ignored the offered hand.

 

The walk back was quiet. They parted ways in the Great Staircase, most of the paintings already asleep. Shiro seemed restless while Keith had fallen into a calm reverie. A hand landed on his shoulder and made him look up.

 

‘I’m sorry if I made it weird.’ Shiro said, eyes searching Keith’s. He wasn’t able to force himself to smile, but put a hand over the one already on his shoulder.

 

‘You didn’t. It was… a lot of socializing today. I’m just dead.’

 

Shiro didn’t seem completely convinced, but let it go. A few steps down the stairs he turned around again.

 

‘Are we still up for morning workout?’, he asked, a smile barely hiding the uncertainty in his tone. Keith raised his brows.

 

‘Feeling too weak, old man?’, he teased. ‘Shiro, we’re good. See you in a few hours.’ Shiro scratched the base of his undercut.

 

‘Sleep tight then.’, he said, turning around with a last smile and disappearing behind the door to the Entrance Hall. Keith remained on the steps a few minutes until a painting cussed him out for the bright light at the tip of his wand. He didn’t really register the exhaustion in his bones as he climbed the many stairs up to his dorm. Keith’s thoughts circled around the fact that for the first time, he had blatantly lied straight into Shiro’s face.  

 

They weren’t okay, but Shiro wasn’t the one at fault. If there even was someone to blame. But somehow, in between Quidditch practice, morning workouts and their nights on the Astronomy tower, Keith had fallen, and the realization hit him in the face like a sledgehammer. There was no way to fix this.

 

He was in love with his best friend.

 

He was in love with Shiro.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading my story, it means a lot to me <3
> 
> Thx so much to Chicken and Caelynx for inspiration, critique and proof reading, without you this would be a mess!!!
> 
> Let's fangirl about Voltron and Harry Potter:
> 
> twitter.com/ribbitsplace  
> instagram.com/ribbitsplace  
> ribbitsplace.tumblr.com


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